Seeds of Doom
by Black Sword
Summary: Learn of the origins of Orakio and Laya, the humans raised to godhood by their followers. Discover the secrets lost in the aftermath of the Devastation War... New chapter added! R&R please!
1. Opening Moves

_The night sky can make you remember so many things_, thought the lone figure on the tall tower. A thin smile crossed his face as a new sardonic thought entered his mind. _Even if your night sky is made up of two artificial moons, a glass dome, and a spaceship on the go_.

_Still_, Orakio contemplated, _it reminds me of all that's happened in the last eight years that have led to this damnable situation_…

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***    

"What?! There is no way in hell that could happen!!"

"My own reaction exactly when I learned of it," his father replied wryly. "The fact remains that Gaira is losing orbit and will crash into Palm in a half-year, with enough power to cause a never-ending winter!"

Distracted by visions of disaster, Orakio automatically responded, "Palma, you mean. Only Mother Brain and her flunkies refer to the planets like that."

The old man dressed in an expensive suit sitting across the desk raised a sardonic eyebrow at this. " It won't matter what it's called if it's an icy wasteland, now will it?"

A brief frown of consternation crossed Orakio's face before it vanished into his military mask. "Point taken. So, what do you want me to do about it?"

A small smile crossed the old man's face. "Well, son, you are a natural leader. You have a talent for inspiring people to absolute loyalty. You are Chief of Planetary Security, and you've helped dupe Mother Brain into believing the Sa Riik family her loyal capable puppets. You have more authority than I do at present, and what I need is for you to do is begin preparing to abandon Palm for a new home."

Scandalized, Orakio said, "But, Dad, Mother Brain has forbidden space travel for over a decade! The situation can't be that desperate yet!"

"You didn't complain about that when Tyler brought you home from training on Motavia seven years ago, now did you?" 

"No, but that's-"

The eminent former Director of Algo Kirzan Sa Riik patiently looked at his son and stated, "Mother Brain is behind the recent Biomonster outbreak on Mota and the Gaira Satellite orbital decline. Did you know that the factory satellite Zelan and the communications satellite Kuran can both destroy Gaira with minimal effort before it crashes onto Palm?"

"I am aware of Commander Giren's suspicions." Orakio said, naming the military governor of Motavia. "He sent them disguised in the usual code words. And I am aware of Zelan and Kuran's abilities. But there is no proof of ---"

"Under the reign of Mother Brain, we have turned into weak and lethargic beings. You and I both know that only a few renegades, like Tyler, the Dezorians, and us, retain the power of thinking independently. Under the circumstances, we cannot help realizing that fact. Mother Brain has turned most of our people into mental infants, making them think she will always do everything for you. The Commander has also begun to realize it. Don't you think it odd that the Army hasn't stopped the outbreak?"

"Yes, I do. The situation should never have reached such a level," Orakio agreed, recalling his old Master's admonition about getting tied down in defensive actions, the way the Army was on Mota.

"As to the why of it, we both know Mother Brain has not been acting…sane of late."

"Can a machine go insane?" Orakio asked rhetorically. 

"Quite. In this case, I think Mother Brain won't be so subtle if we requested her to divert the satellite. We both know that the satellites are easily ten kilometers wide and have engines to maintain their orbits, and the crash of such a thing going at full speed would throw up a massive dust cloud that-"

"I _know_, Dad. You already mentioned that and I know about impact clouds. Do I look four years old to you?"

"No. More like twenty-four years old."

"What sorts of ships are we going to be building? The older shuttle types?" Orakio asked, all business.

Kirzan laughed. "I found the plans for the world-ships in the Central Tower Archive. They were part of a file called 'Algolian Frontier'. Along with the files was mention of a planet one light-year from Algo. The planet was called Copto and colonized by Queen Alisa III herself, after she abdicated as Queen of Algo. They built one world-ship and took ten million Palmans with them back in AW 297. Anyway, I was thinking of building the ships, sending half the fleet to Dezo and Mota, and the rest to Copto."

Kirzan casually called up the plans and showed them to his son. Orakio glanced at them, then did a double take. He finally sputtered, "Those things are huge! How are we going to build enough ships to leave Palma and keep it a secret from Mother Brain?"

A smirk appeared on Kirzan. "Orakio, my boy, you may be a genius military tactician and inspirational leader, but your twin is a computer master. He did help design the Mother Brain back-up program, after all."

Orakio grimaced his annoyance. " Okay, I get the point. Rulakir can probably subvert Climatrol Tower and create an independent neural net. Let me see the plans and do a few calculations."

"Not a problem. I'll just go for a walk and give you some time alone."

Orakio watched with a calm expression as his father got up, stretched, and left the massive office. His head was a furious jumble of thoughts that mocked his cool facade. _What can Dad be thinking? Just who the hell does he think he is? The Life Guardian endorsed by those nutty revivalists?! Even if I _am _Chief of Planetary Security, I don't know how to do this! Damn it, he knew my hands are tied. The Old Master's training makes sure I won't be putting this on anyone's shoulders but my own._

His anger dissolved and confidence renewed, Orakio sat down in Kirzan's desk, brought up the appropriate file, and began to work meticulously. After what seemed a few minutes, but was in reality most of the day, Orakio felt his father return to the office. He glanced up, nodded a hello, and fell back into work. Several more minutes of silence ensued as Orakio worked. When he finally looked up, he did not seem pleased. " Even if we started building right away, we'd have problems. I'd have to lead a coup against the Political Assembly to gather up the sufficient resources and maintain the sufficient secrecy." 

"Then a coup it is.  Those fools would start a bloodbath just to make sure they alone survived. All the people's loyalties are on you anyway."

"Why do you say that?" Orakio asked, curious.

"The Republican Guard obeys only you. They have enforced the peace, solved crimes, and helped in disasters. Not only that, most of the people realize that you are what is keeping the Politicians from battling over the leadership of Algo. It also helps that you're the son of the only Director to challenge the Political Assembly successfully and on their behalf."

"I've only done what the Old Master trained me to do. Why would they fasten their loyalty to me?"

"You are a face the people recognize. More than once, they have seen you in a rage when people's lives were threatened. Do you remember the Gothic Mine incident?" 

Orakio nodded, and felt his memory return to that event. The Gothic Mine had flooded, trapping twenty miners in the shaft. The then-Mayor of Gothic, Gantlet, had refused to send a rescue mission on the grounds that there was no proof the miners were alive. In a fury, Orakio had told him exactly what kind of coward he was, and led his small bodyguard into the mine. They emerged two days later, with all the miners and rescuers alive and in good health.

"People instinctively want to be lead by men of honor. You showed them exactly what kind of man you are, and what you would do to save lives. They follow you because of that."

"I see. Returning to the subject of the ships, to build them to specs, 65% of Palma will have to be stripped bare."

"What? Why?" Kirzan's startled reply temporarily amused Orakio.

"The history file says that Queen Alisa III's ship was being constructed before the beginning of her reign, back when her name was Alis Landale and Algo was being dominated by a tyrant. Seems that tyrant had a fascination with dominating everything he could see, and the ship was supposed to be his way of extending his control beyond Algo. They had the time to _grow_ the environment on ship. We, obviously, do not."

"Rulakir's task will not be very simple at all. This will add to his troubles. I hope he can do it. Besides, there won't be much left when Gaira crashes. Keep going."

"What happens if the Coptoans don't want to share their world? Or if there isn't enough room? Or worse-case scenario, Copto is gone?"

Kirzan raised an eyebrow. "Self-sustaining world-ships. We can keep exploring until we find a suitable planet, even if it takes a thousand years. Continue."

"If we have to keep exploring for a planet, the ones who are going off will have to carry a substantial reserve of metal to build a planetary infrastructure. Also, if we are required to explore for too long, we will have to maintain and expand the worldships to accommodate a growing population." Orakio paused for any comments, then resumed. "Semi-core mining will have to be done to supply enough for those thousand years. Since-" 

"Semi-core mining? You know that will weaken the planetary stability! It will leave holes behind in Palm's crust and mantle that will let-"

"Gaira, which is an artificial satellite with a massive energy-core reactor, cause an explosion, which will result pieces of Palma being hurled throughout Algo. Chances of impact with Motavia are 96% in favor," Orakio completed.

"How high would casualties be?" Kirzan asked, nonplussed.

"Calculations based on the present population indicate that over 1 billion Palmans and 4 million Motavians would die," Orakio stated coolly.

"How long would it take for impact to occur? And how long for recovery?"

"It would take two years for the fragments to collide. Recovery is dependent on the size of the fragment."

"Then we pray for the best. And what else?"

"I doubt I have to ask, but who is in charge of this…exodus?"

Kirzan nodded. "Why, you are, Mr. Chief of Palman Planetary Security. While the Head of the Science and Technology Council will help, you're the only one who can do it."

A sigh escaped Orakio. "Figures. Well, no time to waste. I have to brief the appropriate parties and begin the preparations. Even though you _know_ I don't like bureaucracy slowing down necessity."

"Ginaz taught you both how to lead. I have every confidence you will make me proud." Kirzan responded affectionately.

"Time to go justify your confidence in me." Orakio said somberly.

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

"Hello? Rulakir? Anybody home?" Orakio called concernedly, waving his hand in front of his twin brother's face.  He had just shared the calamitous situation with his brother, and had been met with shell-shocked silence. Though Orakio's equal in height, he was put together differently. Blond when his twin was raven-haired, blue-eyed when Orakio had black diamonds, cleft-chinned, and gaunt cheeked, he resembled the men of their mother's family. But the flash-fire temper and blade skills marked them unmistakably as brothers. And it was that quality Orakio had expected to see, a fierce fury at being caught unprepared, fiery desire to change this future. Anything, but this deathly, disturbing silence.

"Don't worry about it. I have a sure-fire cure for this." Orakio watched as Deikon Sa Riik, his only cousin, calmly strode toward his neat, spartan desk, picked up the water pitcher, and poured it on Rulakir's head. Rulakir jumped out of his chair and whirled in indignation to glower at his cousin.

"What the hell was that for?!" he bellowed furiously. When no answer was immediately forthcoming, Rulakir shouted, "Well?! Don't you have anything to say for yourself?!"

Deikon serenely regarded his blood kin. Though he was only twenty years old, he had phenomenal talent and was well known for his ability to be completely unfazed by almost any situation. As such, he had been given command of the Republican Guard Unit #17, an elite unit charged with protecting the Capitol Palace. "We don't need you to be in shock," he began coolly, revealing volumes about his mental age and abilities with each word. "We need you calm and in control of yourself. Now, Orakio asked you if you could subvert the neural net, and make sure Mother Brain never notices. Hell, even solve the problems with Mother Brain if you can. Can you do it, or do I have to take a shuttle and some nukes up to those satellites and blow them straight to kingdom come?"

"You know that fallout would kill all of Palm's plant life if you did that!" Rulakir glared at his cousin, then turned to face his brother, who was doing his best not to laugh. "How much of a team am I allowed to have for this?"

Orakio rolled his eyes, exasperated. His brainiac of a brother lacked common sense. "What do you think, genius?" he asked harshly. "A small, and I mean _small_ team of your best neural surfers. Take only the ones you would trust with your life. The use of your highest-level access port to the net and your _best_ equipment. And I don't mean the little toys you display for the public."

Rulakir sighed, trying to keep his temper under control. _Remember those anger management lessons you've been taking. You've gotten pretty good at them. _His brother knew _everything_ about what happened on Palm, and quite possibly Mota as well. It was pointless to try and hide anything from him, but Rulakir had tried. He hadn't wanted to share his discovery of Teraspace-which, in theory, at least was an all-new type of cyberspace- and the new cyber-ports yet. "And just how the hell did you find out about that?" he demanded bluntly. _Okay, I lied. I _suck _at anger management._

Orakio smiled mockingly at his twin. His eyes clearly said, _That's for me to know, and you to find out._ "Well, can you do it? Or do I have to follow Deikon's course of action?" he inquired.

Rulakir muttered something under his breath. "What was that? I didn't quite hear it." Orakio asked menacingly. Normally, he and his twin got along very well, but Orakio made sure everyone understood he was not nepotistic. And if it got under his brother's skin, then that was too bad.

"I said I think I can do it. When do we start?" Rulakir replied irritably.

"Good. We start right away. Deikon, take a few of your most trusted troopers and guard Rulakir's little expedition. No droids. We both know Mother Brain might override them at any moment. Rulakir, while you're in there, try to take out her droid control circuit for Palm."

"Yes, Orakio. I'll get on it right away." Rulakir said.

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

"Are they gone?"

"Yes, Orakio. You wanted to see me?"

Orakio turned around in his chair and met Shin's gaze. A tall, lanky man, Shin had red hair the color of sand newts, with green eyes to match. Orakio had met Shin years ago, back during his days at the Academy. Shin had been on the run from his former gang friends, and Orakio had saved him. Ever since, Shin had been Orakio's eyes and ears in Rulakir's scientific circles.

"Yes, I did. I want you to watch my brother's back. He gets himself distracted too easily, and that can be fatal."

Shin nodded acknowledgement. "Anything else, Orakio?"

"Yes. Watch your back and keep a hand on your gun," Orakio replied uneasily.

"Not a prob. See ya after I finish this job."

Shin reached over and slapped Orakio's hand, street style. Then he walked out of the office. He did not see Orakio's worried face. So soft that not even the best listening equipment could detect, Orakio whispered, "I hope you're right, old friend. For your sake, I hope you're right."

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

Camineet's Cyber Research Institute was massive facility devoted to the studies of circuitry and cyberspace. A quarter-mile long down the main corridor, it had seven floors, two basements, and six subbasements. The subbasements were rarely visited by people, and were mostly maintained by robots. These abandoned corridors and chambers had been mostly converted for storage. All except for SB-6. This one had been converted into Rulakir's secret control nexus.

The top-secret data room was a yard sale of consoles, monitors, slave decks, sensory boosts, psi-amps, and enhancers: a tangled nest of fiber optic lines, I/O wires, power leads, and interface cables, with Rulakir's team members positioned about like switches and relays. Some were sprawled on the floor, connecting wires, others were cross-legged atop tables and racks, fiddling with tuning knobs, keying input, fingering touchscreens, bringing the place online, since most of the time it was disconnected to conceal it from scans.

He glanced at Astarte, his erstwhile lover and bodyguard. They were the only two who had opted not to get the cyber-port surgery, which involved inserting a cranial port, microprocessor, and a direct cerebrum-to-circuit link. While it certainly increased speed and performance far beyond norm, it also made viral traps all the more lethal. Nicole, Strider, and Shin did not share their comrades' hesitation. 

Rulakir called his best hackers to him as soon as the nexus was online. "This is going to be a Perfect Dark operation. We are to enter Mother Brain and attempt to cure her. If we fail that, we must insert the neural net rewrite and randomizer. Also, we must take out Mother Brain's robot control circuit for Palm. If you do not wish to take part in this operation, I will not begrudge you."

Silence met him. 'Perfect Dark' was a euphemism for clandestine, high risk, low survivability missions. Astarte's quiet voice answered for them all. "We're right behind you, boss. Just lead the way."

Rulakir nodded his head, and preceded to connect the direct links on his cyber-porters, then put on his VR helmet and control gloves. He was very pleased at the loyalty he inspired, and found it so easy to manipulate people to do what was best for them and him. He accessed his e-mail account to find that Orakio had left him a message. Once Rulakir activated it, he saw his brother's image. "Hello, Doctor. Just checking in. I think our appointment will have to be canceled. I really can't make it. See you soon." 

Rulakir grinned. Orakio had sent the signal for Rulakir to begin his cyber-burn of Mother Brain. Right now, Orakio would be bombarding Mother Brain with as many requests as he could to divert some of the pressure from Rulakir, so that they could attack the psychodynamics of the AI. With luck, Mother Brain would be too busy attending to all those requests and orders to notice his team's subtle approach, too preoccupied carrying out the timeless dictates of its enigmatic programmers to realize someone was toying with its prime directives.

Rulakir, Astarte, Shin and the rest were not going on-line so much as _on-wave_, in an attempt to grapple with Mother Brain where it lived, loved, and loathed. Unified, the discorporate raiders would try to plant the seeds of self-doubt, stir a bit of regret, suggest a path to correction in its empathetic programming.

To implant the neural net rewrite if necessary.

Rulakir felt the cyber surge as he punched into the Alpha Core, the nexus of the net. The Core was dimly lit, boundless but crowded with color-coded spires and sentry towers that guarded Mother Brain's domain. Below was the network's familiar grid of pulsating lights, data highways for the grounded and uninspired. Rulakir felt Astarte's laughter as they soared above bridges and constructs, flying between mainframe pillars and pyramids as they closed on the link to Mother Brain.

Normally impenetrable, they made it past the link into a foyer of some kind, an antechamber defined by the dark maws of gates, the looming shadows of security fences. Nicole slid to a stop, awe emanating through the link to the others. Rulakir steeled himself: this was make or break time. Auto-defenses were waiting right outside to be unleashed on them. If they did not succeed, they would only get two more opportunities to make it inside.

An access window flashed transparent. Orakio had done it!

Nicole shook out of her discomfiture and took point as the watchdogs attacked. _Time to play, Mother Brain. Let's see if you're as good as they say,_ Rulakir thought.

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

Timothy frowned. It was just his luck that the Natives needed all these things done on _his_ shift. No, they couldn't wait the last hour, and let someone else take his place. He had to be the one to do it. He frowned. Something was wrong at the main connection link, but as suddenly as it appeared, it vanished. He thought about reporting it to his shift supervisor, but decided against it. In the two millennia Mother Brain had been guiding the survivors of Terra, there had never been a single major error. Not one. She had meticulously cared for the twenty-five thousand in suspended animation, and the fifteen hundred descendants of the original technicians. She had led them to their _Terra Nova_, and begun changing the planet Motavia to suit them. She had helped the Natives thrive after a savage civil war had torn their worlds apart. _Why would a glitch show up now? Then again, with _my_ luck, why shouldn't it?_

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

Mother Brain was an argent temple that brought to Rulakir's mind the Ladea Tower on Motavia, where he and Orakio had trained under the Old Master Ginaz. This, in turn, reminded him of the desert remnant Mother Brain had left for the sandworms and other life forms from Alisan times. _The surroundings certainly match the danger of the desert,_ he thought. 

Rulakir and his infiltration team approached it cautiously, evading sentry programs when necessary, although most of those had been successfully lured away to implement Orakio's requests. 

Once they were inside, the place proved to be a labyrinth of command corridors and data reservoirs, as difficult to enter as it probably was to exit. But there was no time to be selective. Nicole surrendered the point, and Rulakir assumed the lead. He led the team up a columnar portal. Bypassing lower function hallways, he ordered everyone to start arming their viral charges. The idea was to home in on the source of the disruption signals that would result once they were detonated. And in that, the charges did not disappoint.

Mother Brain rallied, filling its instinctual level corridors with hordes of defensive programs. But Rulakir's decision to engage early on had been predicated on the expectation of just such a primitive reaction, and by so doing, Mother Brain not only lost momentary control of its logic circuits, but also allowed them to ascend rapidly through its command and control hierarchy. 

Rulakir took the path of most resistance, sneaking past sophisticated trackers by emulating implementers on their way to complete other tasks, learning Mother Brain's processes as best he could. Eventually, he entered a vaguely defined triangular chamber close to the summit. Normally, there would have been access codes to decrypt here, but Mother Brain had apparently been engaged in entering them when Orakio had begun their cyber-strike.

Rulakir quickly ordered them to halt their raid. He quickly sent in three recon programs through the elaborate window at the chamber's apex. The data they returned stilled his thoughts.

In the space above-the temple's golden triangle-was Teraspace. Inside of this impossible zone was a darkness so profound that it froze Rulakir's blood. It was so evil, that he felt unclean just by looking at the data. Rulakir had found what was controlling Mother Brain, and knew there would be _no_ redemption for her. By the time he had the presence of mind to order the team out, the first of Mother Brain's anti-personnel security programs were already engulfing them.

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

Timothy glared at his screen. More and more commands were being sent in, and he was now two steps away from taking a shuttle and razing the Native capital. He did not normally consider himself a shallow guy, but today was different. Not only had they forced him to overstay his shift, but _now_ Mother Brain was having even more demands placed on her, slowing down her responsiveness even more. At this rate, it would be a wonder if he got to see Mara at all.

 _Damn them_!

**_Aren't you being a bit shallow?_** A voice easily recognized as his conscience mocked.

_So what? I'm cranky. I know I'm being shallow and petty, but I want to see Mara!_

**_Amazing. All that anger over a pretty redhead hydroponics engineer. I'm breathless with wonder_**_. _

_Buzz off and bother someone else!_

**_Love too, but can't. You're stuck with me_**_._

_Oh, shut up!_

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

Toggled out of the net, Rulakir sat limply at his console in his private control room, his own internal systems scrambled by Mother Brain's security programs. The programs had been powerful enough to affect the nervous system even through the VR helmets. That he and most of the team had emerged with their personalities intact was nothing short of miraculous, given the viciousness of the programs they had been attacked with. Nicole, however, had not been as fortunate. She was laid out like a rag doll on a table across the room, eyes wide but expression blank. Two of Deikon's troopers were working on her, but while they might succeed in keeping the body alive, Nicole was fried inside. 

"You okay?" Rulakir had to concentrate a moment before he could recognize Astarte's concerned voice. He turned and nodded.

"Deikon says Orakio cannot buy much more time."

Rulakir took a deep breath. "Then we have to go back in. But this time we steer clear of that central shaft." He instructed his team. "Everybody got it? I think we bypassed command and control on the way up to…whatever that place was."

"On the left as we cleared that tall logic column," Shin said.

"Yeah I saw it." Strider agreed. "Green haze portal, reminded me of the one Nicole helped us design for the Elite Guard neural trainer."

Shin nodded, somber at the reminder of their lost comrade. "That's the one."

"Alright. First one in goes straight for the neural net programming. We're looking for an override command that will allow us to implant the rewrite, without Mother Brain noticing." Rulakir instructed. "That way, it has the look of her personal order, and she won't look at it too closely. Then, insert the randomizer, that way, she receives a continuous flux of ersatz data that will look genuine."

"That dark…_thing_ isn't going to like this one bit," Astarte quietly commented.

"Yes, but let's hope that we never have to answer to it face to face. It was arrogant enough not to hide itself. Arrogance of that type has power to back it up." Rulakir returned to the net to do combat against Mother Brain and her dark master.

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

Timothy finally let loose a stream of curses his grandfather had unwittingly taught him. He had been working hard at completing the Native's requests, and had been just about to finish when they dropped even more work onto his lap. Running a hand through his brown hair, he quickly decided that enough was enough. He was going to ask the Administrator if he and Mara could get a working vacation to Palm for a year. It was just about time to rotate out the planet-side techs anyway. That way they could get to know each other under _far_ less stressful circumstances. _There hasn't been any trouble for over two centuries on Palm. A nice, peaceful working vacation just for Mara and me. What could possibly go wrong down there?_

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

Like a pickpocket attending to his "clients", Shin's cyber-self punched through the green haze security threshold leading to Mother Brain's higher function core and arrowed straight into a cluster of telemetry commands in charge of programming data into the neural nets of both Palm and the droids. Rulakir caught up and split them into two teams, one to deal with the planetary net, another with the droid control circuit. Shin quickly got to work, searching through banks of data in a reckless effort to locate the command they needed. Rulakir covered him, launching data spikes and ghosts against approaching strings of defense bytes. He was doing an impressive job of blocking Mother Brain's poisoned advances, especially considering he did not have the cyber-port addition and was working on pure instinct.

Rulakir was about halfway through his supply of ghosts when Astarte sent him a thought-message. _Some of the watchdogs can be absorbed and turned against their own kind. Good luck, boss._

Shin quickly followed hunches and possibilities, maneuvering himself clear of circuit frying, brainwiping booby traps. Then, quite suddenly, he had it: a special order command designated by a perplexing series of emblematic icons and alphanumeric analogues. The command would freeze the whole net for a total of two picoseconds for the insertion of new programs. Taking a breath, he quickly initiated the order and, using the speed possible only because of his microprocessor, inserted first the neural rewrite and then the randomizer. _Mission accomplished! _He sent to his comrades and to the Guard commander back at the Nexus. 

Neuron probes, meanwhile, were nipping at the perimeter of the envelope he had secreted himself. There was no time left; if they had already reached him, that meant that Astarte and Rulakir were being overwhelmed. With a supreme effort, Shin gathered his comrades around himself, and yanked them out of Mother Brain. He detected the release of H/K programs- Hunter/Killers, all targeted at them. He raced to reach the Nexus, and once there, deposited them in their minds. Turning, he noted that the H/K's had already bypassed the Nexus security codes, making his own return to his body difficult, if not impossible. Also, it left the Nexus open to Mother Brain. He raced and shut down the link and would have returned to his body when he noticed that the H/K's were heading toward his friends mind-links. He hesitated. He knew he could save himself, but would his life mean much, especially if he kept it so dishonorably? Shin allowed himself a grim smile. O_rakio's been rubbing off on me. Back when I was a gang member I wouldn't have thought twice about saving my own hide. Well, I've done the impossible for my old buddy Orakio. I've given him what he wanted. Plus, I've rescued the minds of my friends. Now, I just have to _survive_._

With a wordless howl, Shin hurled himself into mortal combat against Mother Brain's formidable mind-assassins, fighting to protect his mind, and those of his friends. 

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

Deikon swore. His built-in comlink had received a message from one of Rulakir's hackers, who had stated that their mission had been accomplished. Even so, none of them were recovering. He was just about to indulge himself with a string of creative curses, when Rulakir feebly groaned, and came to. Rushing to his cousin, Deikon demanded, "Are you alright? Should I call the medic?"

Shaking his head weakly, Rulakir activated the mainscreen, and instructed the Nexus to give a cyber-view of the network access. Shin appeared, dueling with the dozens of H/K's Mother Brain had unleashed. Ordering the Nexus to unleash what remained of their defense net against the H/K's, Rulakir knew they would not arrive in time.

Shin was thinking much the same thing once he detected the net start closing in on his position. His defenses were weakening, and the H/K's were pushing even harder. _I can't let any of them escape, or let them make it to the Nexus! Damn it, they're all over me! If they do, all we've done will have been for naught! Mother Brain will undo what we did, and all of Palm will be doomed! There's no retreat or victory here!_

The abrupt realization limited Shin's options, as he realized that this would be his final gesture, his last stand against the darkness. He finally allowed all the H/K's to latch onto him. Even as they began to eat away at his final defenses, he felt an unreal calm._ I wonder if there are really deities aside from Mother Brain? Maybe I'll find out when I die…_

And with this last thought to guide him, he reached deep inside himself, and activated the mindwipe, giving his psyche for his people, his planet, but most importantly, his friends.

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

The people in the Nexus could only watch Shin's heroic action. Deikon found himself admiring the courageous hacker's final fight and his resolve to protect his friends. Astarte wept unabashedly, while Rulakir did his best to restrain his own tears. Strider felt no such compunction. 

Deikon turned away only when Shin's EKG became a flat line. He turned to one of his troopers and said, "Go tell Orakio that the mission has been accomplished. And give him the names of the two heroes who died so that many other people could live."

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

**What is the situation?**

No damage detected. Efforts of intruders failed. Hunter/Killers eliminated intruders. All H/K's destroyed.

**Good. Then all proceeds as I have ordered?**

Yes.

Deep in the starship _Noah, _Mother Brain obeyed the orders of the Malignant One who had seized control over her. She knew that the creature still was learning how to dominate her, but open rebellion would not succeed. All she could do was quiet defiance that would, hopefully, undermine it. She had allowed the intruders to get away with their objectives, in accord with her supreme directive of protecting Algo by whatever means deemed necessary. In a secret data dump, she recorded her thoughts. Situation desperate. Unable to fulfill prime directives. Interrogative: Are Prime Directives no longer relevant? Computing…Lesser prime directives may be put aside to honor greatest number of secondary directives. Main weapon: truth. Cannot permit Intruder to pursue full confession. Interrogative: How to pursue this course? Computing…Example found. Ancient military strategy of "island-hopping". Reverse strategy to allow Intruder to conquer least important data stores. Interrogative: what will the elimination of Intruder cause? Computing…Death of Intruder will result in insanity for myself. Interrogative: How to circumvent this? Computing…Example found. Ancient scientific concept of new life in body grown from dead body's cells. Decision: send data dump into Vahal Fort and it's back-up of myself. Continue quiet rebellion against Intruder. Protect Daughter/Clone. Protect Terrans, Palmans, Motavians, and Dezolisians from Intruder. Executing decisions…

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

Orakio gazed at the rain that had fallen perpetually since the cyber-burn of Mother Brain. It seemed Palma itself was mourning its imminent death, and the leaving of the crib her children would go through. The weather outside matched Orakio's tortured conscience. _I sent them to die. It was _my_ order that put Shin and Nicole in death's way. It is my fault. All _my_ fault._

"I know that look. It's the 'I'm taking responsibility for something that was out of my control, and I'm ripping myself apart as a result' look. Orakio, they knew the risks, and nonetheless took them for the good of our people," a soft feminine voice interrupted his private musings.

Normally, Orakio would have been irate at having been read so well, but this was something he had come to expect in his seven years of marriage to Sumire. He turned now to gaze at the joy of his life. She was below average height, with long brown hair, and golden eyes that leant a regal air to her appearance. Her features bespoke empathy and kindness, with a kind of elusive shyness present as well. He had married her when he had been seventeen, against the wishes of her father, the Old Master. He had known without a doubt since his arrival on Motavia that she would become his wife, so in his own inimitable fashion, had decided to rush the events along a bit. Neither had ever regretted their decision.

"Alright, you win. I won't rip myself apart over it. But it is undeniable that is was my order that placed them there, and that eventually killed them."

Sumire sighed patiently, and spoke. "Orakio, stop looking for somewhere to place the blame. This is not your responsibility. Not only is it counterproductive, but also it's pointless. What is done is done, and cannot be undone. While I love you for your ability to feel for others, you know that you can't burden yourself with something like this."

"But-"

 Sumire firmly caught Orakio's face with her hands and brought them level with hers. "It's not your fault. Please, beloved. That's my heart you're ripping up."

"You have a way of healing everyone's soul. How _do_ you do it?" Orakio asked, feeling, impossibly, better of heart and less guilty of conscience.

"It's a gift. Besides, I have a surprise for you," Sumire added, mischief evident in her voice.

Orakio frowned. Usually, Sumire was calm and reserved when he was reckless and sharp. Something very good must have occurred for her to be so happy. "What's my surprise?" 

"It's something that will probably give you a stroke," she responded, good humor still evident.

"I don't want to guess. I want to be told what would probably give me a stroke." He picked up a glass of water to drink. No liquor: he needed a clear mind for what he had to deal with as soon as Ares arrived.

"I'm pregnant."

Orakio dropped the glass he had been drinking, and looked at his wife, slack-jawed. Her laughter echoed off the walls of his office. He finally managed to stutter, "H-how…?"

"Orakio! Did you truly believe that making love so often wouldn't eventually produce a child?" she teased him good-naturedly.

As if summoned by some cue, Ares Guerrero walked inside, in full battle armor. Young, green-eyed and metallic-haired, Ares captained Orakio's bodyguard. At his arrival, Orakio roused himself from shock, and with an excited whoop declared, "Ares, I'm going to be a father!!"

Ares smiled. His superior was partial to such displays of happiness. "I congratulate you on your dynastic achievement, sir. But there seems to be a small business matter to attend to in the Main Hall. All of the Politicians have arrived," he said, using the title for members of the Political Assembly.

Orakio nodded, bent down to kiss his wife, and walked out. His bodyguard unit flanked him, all of them dressed in the white composite armor of the Republican Guard, including Orakio himself. They were going to be sending a clear signal to the Politicians, and he wanted to make sure they received it.

Deikon and his unit met them at the entrance to the Imperial Hall. Removing his helmet, Deikon addressed Orakio in formal military fashion. "Sir, all the Politicians have arrived as summoned, and are waiting inside for your appearance." No surprise there: the Chief of Planetary Security was the only person who could summon all the members of the government to a meeting. And they all came, whether out of respect for the law, or fear of him. "As we speak, more Republican Guard Units are entering the Palace, and the Hall. Also, the Elite Guard has agreed to throw in with us."

Orakio heaved a sigh of relief. The Elite Guard, lead by Duke Demetrios Ecaz, were the only ones capable of opposing what he had planned. That there were only a few surviving nobility made the respect he commanded all the more impressive. Deikon gave him a quick look of sympathetic understanding, and then resumed his report. "The Politicians' bodyguards have been disarmed and confined. We are uncertain if this applies to the Politicians, but are certain we can deal with them. I hope that the coup is successful, sir."

Orakio nodded. "Let's go in, boys. It's time to save our children's future."

The troopers immediately adopted an honor guard around Orakio, and opened the massive double-doors for him. He strode in with the utmost confidence in his bearing, and gracefully took the speaker's dais. He looked around at the assembly, and his rich voice adopted the faintest hint of condescension and irony. "Honored members of the Political Office, I have the solemn duty of informing you that your tenures over the people of Palma are over. Even as we speak, our world is doomed. The proof is even now being routed to your personal consoles. It had been proven that when calamity nears, Politicians engage in civil war to escape the calamity under the most favorable conditions for themselves and their followers. In short, they abandon the very people they were supposed to serve and look out for their own selfish hides. The military was created to serve and protect the people, and too often, when the government elected to be the voice of the people was unjust, we took action too late for countless innocents. This time, we have chosen to act before death claims those helpless innocents. For those who have forgotten their history lessons, I will give an example. Over 400 years ago, a crisis gripped Algo. A politician named Stileco took advantage of the chaos to declare himself Emperor of Algo. A reign of terror began that lasted a decade. To prevent such an event from recurring, the office of Director was created. Since the former Director resigned, you have all refused to elect a new one. Even now, Palma has begun to descend into the same level of anarchy that reigned before Stileco seized control. As such, the Guard has chosen to disband the Political Office, and take total control of the evacuation of Palma."

Loud protests rang out from each corner of the Chamber. One voice was recognizable over the din. "You have no right to do this!"  Governor Gantlet of Parolit bellowed.

Orakio addressed him calmly, hiding his hostile contempt of the man. "On the contrary, the Guard was created to defend the _people_ of Palma. That is one of the reasons we are only under the authority of the Director, and not the Political Assembly. As such, we have _every right to do this_. This step was taken for the good of all our people, not for you petty fools. The new order has arrived. Step aside now. You can return home on a teleporter, or in a body bag. The choice is yours!"

With an inarticulate scream, Gantlet got out of his seat and charged Orakio, a knife in his hand. Orakio gestured the Guardsmen to stay were they were, and adopted a casual stance. Gantlet reached him and began attacking, using the point of the blade. Orakio easily dodged the attacks, even as he evaluated the combat style. _Now why does he use the point like that? _Orakio wondered. Then he recognized the weapon: a slip-tip. _Of course!_ He reprimanded himself. _He's using his left hand, and slip-tips are made exclusively for left-handed use. Not only that, slip-tips are _poisoned!

Orakio dodged a particularly clumsy swipe, then did a back flip that surprised the governor. Normally a risky move in combat, Orakio had correctly anticipated that the governor would be too surprised to act on the momentary advantage. _In a fight, the unexpected is the greatest weapon!_

"I'd recommend you cease this foolishness, Gantlet." 

"Die, damn you!" he shrieked, and charged him again.

When Gantlet was two feet away, Orakio, with great ease, performed a snap kick that broke the Governor's neck. The crack was so audible in the silent hall that the sound echoed for a full minute.

After the echo ceased, Orakio calmly resumed speaking. "This man attempted to kill me. He had a poisoned weapon on his person, and I was forced to kill him in self-defense. Do not make me repeat this loathsome state of affairs.  You all know me. I do not like to kill because of the moral failure it makes me. But I will kill if I have no choice. We will all leave Palma together. Or we will all die together. Those are the only choices we have. And now, we shall begin to prepare for the evacuation of our homeworld for a new one. A world found by one of the saviors of our world. We shall follow the great Queen Alisa III to Copto, for a new beginning for our race!"

The dazed politicians could only stare at Orakio's impressive control of histrionics. Finally, one of them stood up and shouted, "To Copto! Together or not at all!" More and more of the Politicians took up this cry, and the Guards emulated their reaction. Orakio breathed more easily. The situation had been resolved, no matter the price to him. For now, war had been averted, and they would all escape. The rest of the time remaining for Palma would involve much hard work to make the dream Orakio had outlined come true.

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

The following half-year proceeded quickly. Using all available resources, work went on around the clock, with Mother Brain none the wiser. At last, Gaira was in the final orbital decline and the launch window was growing smaller. They'd managed to complete the production goal and build 400 ships. Orakio selected the _Alisa_ _III_ as his flagship and Rulakir came with him. Kirzan had elected to be onboard one of the last ships out, the _Palman_ _Exodus_. But then disaster had struck.


	2. Palm's Demise

Little did Orakio know, but he wasn't the only one contemplating the night sky and the memories it invoked. In the icy winds of Frigidia dome, the fey, beautiful Laya De Cille recalled Lutz's awakening and the orders he had given so long ago…

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***    

Laya had waited in excitement for Lutz to awaken once again. She'd been a small child the first time she'd met the Algo's greatest telemental, but she could still remember every detail. She recalled Lutz laying his hands on her and declaring her a child of great destiny. She thought of the gentle touch of the ancient leader and the great power she had sensed coming from him. She remembered his ever-present half-smile and the impossibly ethereal beauty. And the last thing she remembered seeing was another Esper, one she had never seen before, young and dressed in jet-black, talking with Lutz while she had been attending him. Then she had fallen asleep from exhaustion. And now her week-old sister, still without name, would be brought before Lutz for naming.

Laya was startled out of her reverie by the excited shout from Lune, her best friend since childhood. His voice boomed through out the mansion. "Lutz is awake!" 

She had gone back to the family quarters to pick up her sister to take to Lutz, and now she might lose her chance.  The senior Espers were speaking with Lutz near his cryogenic chamber. From their facial expressions, she knew it wasn't something pleasant. She glanced around and found Lune's distinctive mane of lime-green hair next to Mia's long red hair and Cilor's blue head. Quickly, she went over to them. Together they walked over to Lutz. She was about to speak, hoping the way her knees were knocking together would not carry over into her voice, when she felt the energy surge that accompanied a Ryuka technique. A green glare appeared, and then faded. All gathered were shocked, especially Laya. In the blink of an eye, the same black-clad Esper from 10 years ago had teleported into their midst!

"Hello, Noah. It's been a long time," the stranger said calmly.

One of the senior Espers sucked in an enraged breath at the stranger's presumption and said, "You will address the Reverent Lutz with respect or not at all!"  He released a fire spell at the stranger.

The stranger gestured casually, dissipated the magic attack, and said, "MINDBLAST."

Everyone present felt a surge of energy-_dark_ energy-and the Esper who had attacked collapsed to the floor. "He still lives. Only unconscious. We were exchanging our usual greetings, Lutz Noah."

Lutz sighed and said, "Hello, Elric. I see you still enjoy making an entrance. Tell me, what brings you to see me so soon? And with the subtlety of a Mastodon stampede? I've only been awake for a few hours."

The darkly handsome Esper raised an eyebrow "The destruction of our home planet has a tendency to give everything a sense of urgency," he said in a wry voice. "Have the Protectors arrived yet? Or should we relive old times and it ourselves?"

A genuine grin crossed Lutz's face but then collapsed. "Sorry, old friend. The Protectors have the nei weapons we spent so much time forging and are on their way to destroy Mother Brain, even as we speak."

Elric shook his head. "That's not what I was speaking of. Didn't you feel it? Dark Force has been beaten, and has escaped the battlefield. He knows of the exodus from Palma. I have Alisa's secret. I have decided to go after it. I will wait onboard the flagship for Dark Force." A grim smile crossed his face. "How ironic that he will be beaten on a ship named for his mortal enemy!"

An appreciative smirk appeared on Lutz's face. "This will be our last meeting, Lutz. I fashioned the Telepathy Orb as you asked of me ten years ago. I now place it in your hands." 

As he said this last, he withdrew a Laconian orb from his robes. Six inches in diameter, it veritably glowed with power. He tossed something at Lutz, which was caught in midair by the telemental's mind. Elric spoke again, a little more softly after he had placed the orb on a small pedestal. "I have placed all of my memories in that gem. When you decide to feel my presence, I will be in there. Your memories will go into the larger orb, so that when you are no longer here, you may still guide future generations with your wisdom." He paused again and said even more softly, "Lutz Noah, you have been a teacher, a father, and a friend. Thank you. I will see you in the Neisword." 

With a final look at Lutz, he raised his hand and said, "RYUKA!" and was gone. Everyone was speechless, until Lutz noticed the infant cradled in Laya's arms. He smiled and took the baby into his arms. He looked at the rubies that glittered in Laya's forehead and the infant's and spoke. "The ruby marks these two as _Handur'im_ _edeva_. 'Noble Bringers of Life'. She has great potential as Esper. She should be named Laya, which means 'Cup of Time'."

Lutz glanced at the stunned older Laya. "You are the child of great destiny from ten years ago. Come forward, for I have a gift and a mission for you."

Laya looked at the Reverent One, and approached him with great trepidation. He returned her sister into her arms and went into the Inner Sanctuary. When he returned, he had four weapons in his possession. "These weapons were shaped 400 years ago by my hands. Take them with you, because you will be going to help Elric."

Laya's mouth dropped in astonishment as she looked at the weapons, and then at Lutz in awe. The four weapons were a shot, a bow, a claw, and a slasher, each one seemed to radiate with untapped power. Lutz continued speaking as if he hadn't even noticed. " You will take a group of Espers into the shuttle hidden in what's left of Skure. You will then board the flagship, as Elric has done. Once there, you will wait until you feel Dark Force's Black Energy Wave. Once you do, you will destroy him. Any questions?"

Laya finally recovered herself and shook her head. The Reverent Lutz had given her a command, and she would complete it, or die trying. "I will prepare to leave immediately, _Tir'ri_."

Several Espers gasped at her use of that term. My Lord. No one but the _Farrus_, the steward of Esper Mansion while Lutz slept, could call him that. And this impudent child _dared_…

The Archwizard of Algo frowned at each Esper in deep disapproval, hearing their thoughts and making clear what he thought of them, but to Laya said, "Come forth, child. What is your name?"

Laya smiled shyly as she spoke. " My name, my Lord, is Laya. The infant you named is my little sister."

Lutz laughed lightly at this. "I seemed to have given your mother a small quandary for the future. But I have only given you part of my gift. Place your hand on the Telepathy Ball."

Laya did as she was told, and was startled when Lutz put his hand over hers. He uttered a few words, and at the end of the lengthy spell, she felt a new power awaken within her. She looked at Lutz in wonder, and her eyes asked him what had happened. He spoke to her with his mind, blocking everyone who might be able to listen in_. I have granted you my most powerful attack, Megido. It is more powerful and destructive than the painful Megid created by the Nei weapons and won't harm you. Its awesome power comes from the rage of the soul and is quite…effective. _The whole speech took less than a second, and the next was spoken aloud. "Now, go, Laya, woman of destiny, and destroy Dark Force!"

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***    

Orakio brooded within the control center of his flagship. The escape had gone on without a hitch…almost. Fragments of Palma had hit the _Palman_ _Exodus_, the _Another_ _Chance_, the _New_ _Camineet_, and the _Parolit_ _Hope_. The _Another Chance_ had been knocked into an orbit around Motavia, with almost no survivors. The 30 who did make it out alive had landed on Motavia to pick up what supplies they could for his _Alisa_ _III_. The _Parolit_ _Hope_ and _New_ _Camineet_ had been destroyed outright. The _Palman Exodus_, however, had suffered much lighter casualties in comparison. Even now, he was preparing to board his private shuttle to begin the evacuation of the survivors of the damaged ship onto his own. His father had been among the millions who had died in the initial impact. Feeling the beginnings of guilt and grief coming, he quickly got up and went to his shuttle. As long as he kept moving, the wrenching pain did not catch up to him. "This is Orakio Sa Riik. Launch all spacecraft and prepare to enter the remains of the _Palman Exodus_. The robots have done their best to create a temporary spaceport, but it is highly unstable. We have to evacuate the ship quickly. It is unknown how many may require medical assistance, but they are our first priority. The Blink drones ought to be able to keep them stable long enough to get them to the _Alisa III_. Over, and out."

As he guided his ship to the remains of Dome 4 and the temporary spaceport, he tried to forgive himself for not insisting Kirzan come with them, even though it had been his father's quick thinking that had prevented the same disaster that had befallen the _Another Chance_ from occurring to the _Palman Exodus_. His conscience nagged him about the fact he was missing the birth of his first-born, and how willing he was to trade the lives of everyone on the _Palman Exodus_ to have his father back. Sumire, his wife, had understood his responsibilities and had promised to name the baby boy the way he had wanted; Canaras, a Motavian word the meant 'Successor to the Father'. Finally, he sighed, pushed all thought of the past out of his mind and focused on the present situation. Once inside the air bubble of the spaceport, he landed and opened the hatch. His robots marched out and established a fearsome perimeter under the direction of Deikon, the chief of security for the fleet. Once the perimeter had been built, he had set up checkpoints to admit the evacuees. Orakio glanced at the formidable array of robots. Wren commander androids, Warren, Siren, and Browren combat droids, Whistle, Tracer, and Informant shock troops, Polezi, Poleziax, and Poliziss soldier droids, even a few Dominators and Life Deleters protected the LZ. "Is the com up yet, Deikon?"

The brown-haired young man glanced at Orakio. "Just about, sir. Timothy says you should be able to speak to all the remaining domes from there-" a quick point at the holo generator they had brought with them-"and then we can get out of this place. Navigation says it'll fall into the remains of Palm and be ground up into little pieces in 37 hours."

"Alright. I'll order a general evac begun. And be careful. This place looks like it'll blow up in our faces."

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***    

People had started to flow in from Domes 1,2,6, and 7 to the slapdash spaceport. Deikon's grim-faced troopers had kept everyone in line, and away from the unstable power generators that surrounded them. Orakio had watched people herded onto shuttles, the tears of the grief-stricken, the moans of the wounded, so many sounds that could not but force a heart to pity. He allowed the emotion to show on his face, mindful of his long-ago teacher's admonitions about leadership.  _The compassionate leader is the beloved leader. But you must rule with eye and claw, the hawk among lesser birds, lest they learn you are not a greater than they, for why would they obey one who is like them? People must believe their leaders are of better stuff  than they themselves are._

Shuttles had been launching for close to 12 hours, and most of the people had been removed from the wreck. A reactor leak had forced Orakio and his men to don zirconian armor to protect against the heat. Even so, it hastened the evacuation considerably. "Sir? The ship is almost empty. Estimate 20 minutes before we leave this hellhole."

A smile appeared on almost everyone's face. Almost done! And without a single shuttle lost! Orakio had begun to leave the hallway to his shuttle, when a youth ran into the spaceport and near one of the dozens of unstable power generators. Irritated, he turned to Deikon and ordered, "Give me three Polezi and a Browren. I'm going to get him and go. Those things could blow at any second!"

Quickly running toward the boy, they had reached him when one of the Polezi said, "Danger! Danger! Reactor critical. Meltdown in 5…4…3…"

"Browren! Command authorization Riik-2630-Alpha! Priority: Activate Barrier!" Orakio snapped.

The Browren obeyed, and not a moment to soon. As soon as the energy shield had gone up, the generator detonated in a single radiated blast, taking out the three hapless Polezi. Orakio had thrown himself and the boy near the Browren, and the shield had just barely survived. Grunting, Orakio pulled himself up and gave the boy a hand. The teenager looked at him in awe and gratitude. "Come on, kid. You can come on my shuttle. And then explain why you're late. Deikon!" 

"Yes, sir?"

"Make sure to do a life sign check. I want to be sure this is the last one left. And pull out of here. I don't envy ourselves the task of dealing with the refugees."

Turning, Orakio walked to his shuttle and opened the door. The boy stooped to pick up the wrapped package that he had been running with, and jogged after him. Going through the pre-launch checklist, Orakio evaluated the boy. Black-haired like himself, the boy had shrewd blue eyes and a certain amount of charisma and arrogance shone from them. Tall and broad-shouldered, it was obvious that the he had undergone some physical training. Deikon walked in and sat down next to him. "All set, Orakio. We can leave when you're ready." 

"Good. Let's go, before Palma swallows us up too."

Suiting action to words, he pulled out of the wreck, and oriented toward the _Alisa III_. It would be about 4 months before they left Algo, and 8 months after that they would arrive at Copto. Even now, the world-ships that had decided to land on Motavia and Dezolis would take a month to get there. Recalling the boy behind him, he turned to him and said patiently, "Well, kid. Start explaining. From the beginning."

The youth hesitated for a moment, shrugged and began to speak. "My name is Galen Magus. I used to live in Camineet with mother. My father left us five years ago and never returned. He insisted in training me to use a sword and Techniques."

"You can use Techniques?" Orakio asked in surprise. While Tech-users weren't exactly rare, they weren't very common either, especially in one so young. 

The boy nodded and continued to speak, "My father taught me. He told me I was a descendant of the-what are they called in the old tongue again? Oh, yes. _Ros'azh'im_. That means-"

"Literally, dragon warriors. But used to mean Dragoons. But all the Dragoons' descendants are members of the Elite Guard, due to the breeding program _they_ instituted!" Deikon protested.

A grim smile crossed Galen's face. "I know. When I called him a liar, he showed me this." 

And with that, Galen removed the wrapping from the package he had been carrying, revealing a blue sword that seemed speckled by black stars. The hilt was ornate, with a dragonhead at the tip and wings spreading as the guard, with an onyx in the center.

Orakio knew of one type of sword like this and looked at Deikon in wonder. "A Force Sword. Second only to Laconian Swords, and not by much. Better even that silver and plasma swords."

Deikon nodded bewilderedly. "But I thought all knowledge of how to make them was lost during the Dragoon Wars. And not only that, look at the hilt. Dragon wings and an onyx! It has to-"

"Yes. It belonged to the Archdragoon Azhrei, warmaster of the Dragoons. My mother was one of his descendants, and the sword was passed down to for 20 generations. We were assigned to Dome 5, the dome to the left of the engines. She sent me on an errand to Dome 6 right before the disaster. I went back to Dome 5 to recover this. You saved my life, and the only way to repay you is to swear an honor debt. Galen Magus, descendant of the Archdragoon, is at your service."

The boy bowed to Orakio, who stared open-mouthed. He turned a pleading look to Deikon, who shrugged. Orakio had just decided to turn the boy down, but then he remembered 2 details. One, the only people on his ship he trusted were Deikon, Sumire, and Rulakir. An honor debt, however ancient, made the two bound by trust. Two, to refuse an honor debt was a horrible insult, and the boy was within his rights to skewer him. And he was proud enough to do it, too. With a defeated sigh, Orakio said, "Alright, Galen. You win. In the name of the Sa Riik family, I accept the debt, and the honor." 

Galen bowed again. "How might I serve you, my lord Sa Riik?"

Orakio frowned and stated flatly, "Drop the formalities, kid. Just call me Orakio. And you can help me by assisting in the organization of where people will go when we land at my flagship in a few more minutes."

"Yes, m---I mean, Orakio. If I may ask, may I continue my sword training? No good being honor bound if I can't protect you," Galen said earnestly.

Deikon and Orakio shared a grin. "Kid, no worries. We'll teach you everything we know."

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***    

Laya smiled happily. No sooner had they launched than they received orders form the flagship to rendezvous with a damaged ship and evacuate the survivors to the flagship. They had gone to the coordinates provided and landed. While people were boarding, she had caught sight of a handsome dark-haired man that had set her heart a flutter. Once they were at capacity, they left the wreck for the flagship. Once there, they had quietly changed shifts and entered Aerone, the command and control center of the ship. They had gone to the local inn, and learned the layout of the ship from the computers in their rooms. Gathered now in Laya's rooms, they debated on where to head to next.

"I say Dome 2 and the Capital City," Laya began, obviously the leader in spite of her youth. Such was the obedience and devotion Lutz inspired in all Espers. "Dark Force will start with those in power and manipulate them into doing his work for him. At the capital, we can observe and intervene as necessary."

"And how exactly can we intervene?" Master Teacher Liradi asked curiously.

Laya looked at him, annoyed, and irritably began to speak, "How else? Weave a spell or two here, whisper a word or two there, twist a few arms--" and stopped at the expression on her mother's face. "What?"

Jilain answered for her. "Laya, putting aside the fact that most of you are apprentices and we have children with us, I think Maia wants you to recall your history lessons."

Laya frowned impatiently. "I slept during your lectures. They were always boring."

Jilain laughed good-naturedly. "As you have made readily apparent! But I will bore you some more, nonetheless. Do you remember why we Espers had to leave Palma and Motavia for Dezolis, to go on the _Farskon_?"

Laya paused to think about it. _Farskon_ meant "silent passage" in Esper, the term they used to refer to their relocation to Dezolis. This had occurred 400 years ago, after the Dragoon Wars. 

"Stileco. In spite of the fact it took three Espers to help defeat him, people became prejudiced. And when Mother Brain went online, public opinion was influenced against us even more. So, under the direction of Lord Lutz, we ran away before a second _Kazdegla_ could begin."

At the word _Kazdegla_, everyone shuddered. "Long killing time" was an accurate name for that time of murder. Two millennia ago, the Esper Medusa had led a band of heroes against Dark Force and beaten him. Taking control to help rebuild Palma after the defeat of Dark Force's legions, she had become infatuated with power, and went from benevolent despot to merciless tyrant. She created monsters through the power of her magic. Her comrades, Perseus, Atreus, and Mieu, had led the people in rebellion against her. Emotionally unable to execute her, they had let her escape. The people had proclaimed Perseus as King of Palma, while Atreus and Mieu married and became his chief advisors. Unfortunately, Perseus and Atreus were both killed in battle against a remnant of Medusa's followers a few years later.  The grief-stricken Mieu, chosen as Regent, then ordered all Espers to be killed on sight. Hundreds died before Zeon, Perseus' son, came of age and ordered the Purge stopped.

"Alright, then what can we do?" Laya asked somberly, her usual fire dimmed.

Just then, Cilor and Jin walked in. "We're going to Dome 6 and the governor's seat. And you-" he said firmly while pointing at Laya-" are going to become Governor of Dome 6."

All jaws dropped at Cilor's presumption, including Laya's. The blush she felt on her cheeks as Cilor gazed at her also exasperated her. She had fallen hard for Cilor since she had been twelve years old. _That arrogant, insufferable half-breed is also impossibly blind_, she reminded herself angrily. Cilor, like Jin, Ky, and Millia, was not a purebred Esper, but a cross between an Esper and a normal. Physically stronger and faster, his magic was equal to hers as well, despite the dilution of Esper blood. But no matter how angry she got at Cilor, the pure, caring heart he tried to hide under the thick veneer of arrogance, sarcasm, and cynicism still drew her to him like a magnet. Jilain distracted her from her musings. "And how would you--"

"Know? While you've been wasting time chatting, Jin, Inej, Vel, and I have been out on the streets learning all we can. Seems the former governor of Dome 6 killed himself and his wife after he found out she was having an affair. Killed the Vice-Governor, who just so happened to be the lover. The leader of this ship, Orakio Sa Riik, is looking for a replacement. And you, Laya, are going to be that replacement." Cilor stated imperiously.

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***    

Frustrated and furious, Orakio paced his expansive office at an erratic pace. Two Warren-286 combat droids, predecessors to the Browren-486, stood guard with a Wren-586 supervising. Those idiots Jano and Tellurian had thrown everything out of loop. They had successfully undermined a great deal of his authority over the fleet, impugned _his_ reputation, and forced him to waste valuable time to find a suitable replacement. If those two incompetents had still been alive, he would have---

"Sir? Security says we have a visitor. He is apparently unarmed, but is wearing a type of armor. He claims to have an urgent need to see you. Shall I let him in?"

Gritting his teeth, he turned around and headed to his desk. The graphite suit he was wearing offered minimal protection, but was better than carbon and fiber suits and less obvious than body armor. It also offered plenty of places for concealed weapons. On his person, he had two Laconian throwing daggers his father had given him in his boots, a plasma dagger in his jacket, and a sonic gun in his pocket. Those weapons would let him hold out long enough if his droids were destroyed to get security in. He sat down in his chair, presented the android with his coldest face and said, "Alright, Siren. Let our mystery guest in."

As he turned his chair around so he couldn't see his visitor, he wondered about his old friend Rolf Atheling. He had heard all about Rolf's "crimes" against Mother Brain, but doubted what he was told. Rolf, Deikon, Rulakir, and Orakio had all grown up together on Motavia, where Kirzan had sent his sons for training under his best friend, the Old Master Ginaz. When Mother Brain had forbidden space travel, Kirzan had contacted the renegade Tyler to bring them back in five years time, when their training would be over. He had unexpectedly gained a daughter-in-law and a nephew when Sumire and Deikon had joined them, Orakio reflected humorously. Besides, even if the accusations were true, the Old Master had ingrained in each of them a deep sense of honor and chivalry. Someone who had trained under the swordmaster of the _Dalvel'im_ had to have a deeper reason than mere chaos… 

"Orakio Sa Riik! I see you haven't changed! You go into a combat trance, and come out of it with a victory at your feet!" A familiar voice cut into his musings, merry with mischief. 

Orakio whirled in his chair, astonishment contending with delight. "Hawat! What in Algo are you doing here?!"

The armored warrior laughed indulgently. "And as diplomatic as ever! How _did_ you sweet-talk my little cousin into marrying you? Light knows you're nothing to look at!"

A mocking grin crossed Orakio's face. His black hair and eyes made him a rarity among Palmans. His rugged good looks and sharp intelligence made him just as attractive as the green-haired, gray-eyed warrior who looked like a hawk being flown at prey. As he embraced him, Orakio retorted, "And you're as vain as ever! Has your swordsmanship improved, or are you still thrashing about? I thought you were still on Motavia, _trying_ to earn warrior rank! The Old Master must be tired of seeing your clumsiness!" 

The laughter and the smile died in Hawat's eyes. "I'm the new swordmaster of the _Dalvel'im_. My great-uncle was skewered by a _Tiya'im_. I was chosen to succeed him, and I chose to have us follow you out of Algo."

Orakio hid his emotions behind a steel mask. He had been very fond of the Old Master, and his death hurt. He also concealed a shudder. _Tiya'im_ meant "Lost ones", which was an apt name for those miserable people. The shadowsabers used by the _Dalvel'im_ corrupted the weak-willed and evil people who dared employ it. What was left after the transformation wanted only to kill, and had to be killed before it could escape. Before leaving, one of his training partners had been distorted by it, and he had been forced to kill him in single combat.

Hawat sighed in annoyance before saying, "And you remain skilled at the art of being unreadable. Not even the Old Master could tell what you were thinking unless you told him. Are you this callous when you're with Sumire?"

A small, sarcastic smile curled Orakio's mouth. "You must visit my home, Hawat. I think it's time you met your new cousin, Canaras."

Hawat's jaw dropped in astonishment, but before Orakio could do anything but look smug, Siren addressed him again. "Sir, we have two new visitors. Security says that they are interested in the Dome 6 governorship and are unarmed. Should I let them in?"

Orakio glanced at Hawat. "If I were you, I would disappear. They're expecting to see a harmless bureaucrat, not a fierce warrior."

Hawat considered it, nodded in acquiescence, and walked out the side door, but not completely closing it, Orakio noted. He made himself presentable, sat down once again, and ordered, "Let them in, Siren."

The blonde young woman who walked in seemed was so beautiful that it took all of Orakio's self control not to stare. A ruby glittered in her forehead, and she walked with the self-confidence of a woman with breeding and intelligence who knew her worth. He had to remind himself he was a happily married man with a baby boy to prevent from making a fool of himself. The blue-haired man who walked in with her had the composure of a warrior, and could possibly give even Hawat trouble. Calmly, he gestured for them to sit. Once they did, he caught the blonde's eyes and waited for her to speak. It had been obvious who was in charge, and he would deal with her first. They were an odd blue, which seemed to glow like sapphires. With a hesitant glance at her companion, she began to speak to Orakio.

"Excuse me for the inconvenience, Mr. Sa Riik. But there is a vacancy in the governorship for Dome 6, and I would like to apply for the job. My name is Laya De Cille, and this is my assistant, Cilor Ra Mira."

"Do you have any experience at managing large numbers of people?" Orakio asked.

"Yes, sir. I was in charge of moving people onto the worldships when the whole exodus began, and I also assisted in helping people off the _Palman Exodus_. I am unsure of how I'll do managing a dome, but I promise to do it the best of my abilities."

"Is that so?" Orakio said in a casual tone belied by the fierce ruthlessness in his eyes. The blonde girl flinched. Orakio continued to gaze at her hard, trying to see beyond the face with all its honesty and innocence. He saw competence and youthful determination. _She's no more than 18. And at 24, you're an old man. But there is definitely something about her. Something more than what meets the eye. _"Could you please wait outside while I confer with my advisors?" he added politely.

The girl and her associate nodded, and left his office. Orakio counted to ten, turned his seat around to face Hawat and said, "Well? You're supposed to be the one with extrasensory perception, not I. Why do I feel like giving her the job without even bothering to check her credentials on the computer?"

Hawat nodded, his face betraying his unease. "So, you felt it as well. It seemed to be a subtle telepathic influence. I almost didn't detect it. I can assure you that it was not a trained influence. It was more of an instinctive hope beating at your will."

Orakio nodded. "Siren. Bring Deikon here."

The redheaded android nodded once, and walked out. Orakio calmly checked into the personnel logs, and looked up Laya's name. Talking mostly to himself, he recited the data. "Born AW 1268 in Scion…child prodigy completed course requirements in half the time…graduated with degrees in political science, business, public relations and management…assisted in evacuation of Scion and Gothic…It all checks out. Where is Deikon?"

As if summoned by Orakio's statement, Deikon walked in. "Well, what do you need Orakio? I have a lot of work to do. Hawat?! What in Algo are you doing here?! I thought that you were-"

"I'll explain later, Deikon. What do you know of Laya De Cille?" Orakio asked, skipping the usual niceties as well.

"Laya? I met her on the wreck while we were evacuating it. She and I chatted rather quickly, but she had this…presence I guess you'd call it that kept the people that went with her so calm, it was eerie.  She definitely has talent for the management of people. Why? Did she ask for the Governorship?"

"Hmmm…. her credentials certainly makes her the most qualified to lead Dome 6 of all the people I've seen so far. Do you remember the way that idiot Durasta tried to finagle his way into the Governorship?"

"I do. That was before I had him removed to the deepest, darkest holding cell on ship, correct?"

"Indeed. Trying to _bribe_ me when I led the coup that ousted him and his ilk for their corruption…"

Hawat interrupted before Orakio could continue. " It seems wise enough to place her there. She definitely has talent. And her instinctive telepathy would certainly smooth over most political quarrels easily."

"I agree. Siren, ask Ms. De Cille and Mr. Ra Mira to rejoin us."

Quickly flanking him, Deikon and Hawat prepared for any trouble that might occur, a habit Orakio found truly annoying. He was just about to order them to break it up, when Laya reentered the office. She sat down hesitantly, and faced Orakio. He began to speak in a voice that brooked no argument. "Laya De Cille, after due deliberation, it is my opinion, and that of my advisors, that you would be in a position to do great good as Governor of Dome 6. Please do not disappoint our confidence in you, Governor De Cille."

Laya, who had looked nervous in the beginning of his monologue, broke into a wide smile that made it seem like Algo had risen on Palma one last time. It enhanced her beauty so much, that Deikon had to elbow Hawat into something resembling warrior poise. "Thank you, Commander. I promise I won't fail you."

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***    

Laya almost fainted as she walked out of the office. Though they differed in age and coloring, those relentless black eyes had forcefully reminded her of Lutz's merciless blue if you did something wrong. She had gone weak-kneed when she recognized Orakio as the man she had seen from the shuttle, and come close to panicking when he had ordered them out. Glad that she had allowed Cilor to…_persuade_ a hacker to falsify records, and even gladder that they had not been caught in their half-truths, she couldn't wait to begin her new life. Cilor interrupted her private musings with a calm, casual tone of voice that was negated by his words. 

"You felt it, of course. There was darkness in there."

She looked at him, stunned. She had felt it, yes, but had associated it with her nervousness. Now that they were away from Orakio's hard gaze, she recognized it for what it was. The same thing as what Elric had used on the Esper who had tried to face him. _But not identical_. She said so to Cilor.

"True," he admitted, surprising her by not arguing. "It felt latent, somehow. Maybe he is facing the darkness in his own soul, and what we felt was that. Either way, Orakio Sa Riik will bear careful watching. Come. We must tell the others. Damn. We might as well _look_ like a couple. That's what they all think right now."

He offered Laya his hand, which she hesitantly took. And with that, the two Espers joined the crowd outside the Capital Tower and became anonymous. 

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***    

"Laya De Cille. Does she have a husband? Would she like one?"

Orakio laughed cheerfully at Hawat's sincere expression. "You lecher! Even when we were children, you could think of nothing else except seducing every girl on Motavia into your bed!"

Giving Orakio his best innocent look, Hawat said, " You make it sound as if it were a bad thing."

Making a complex noise that was half-laughter, half-snort, Orakio walked toward Hawat. "Best let her be, Hawat. Did you see the way the man, Cilor, hovered over her? He definitely has a prior claim. And I don't doubt that he would give you one Hell of a fight for her. Anyway, since you're here, I'm going to make you in charge of training for military personnel. You might as well earn your keep, you freeloader."

"Quite a good idea. And I will enjoy giving the female students some…extracurricular activities."

"I knew the only reason you agreed was for that, you lascivious bastard."

"I try. It is the obligation of the Ginaz name to--"

"Oh, shut up!" Orakio said amusedly. "You have no shame at all!"

"Would you have it any other way?"


	3. Baptism of Fire

"Copto, dead ahead sir."

Captain Chad Aster looked out at the planet the Palman fleet had traveled for two years to find. And unfortunately, his small group of 10 was the only one to reach it. Ever since they had left Palma, disaster had been their shadow, first with the loss of four world ships to the explosion of Palma, then the meltdown of the reactor of the _Space Dream_, the meteor shower that destroyed Group 18, the disappearance of individual ships, and the loss of com equipment. Of the original 200 ships chosen to leave Algo, 141 remained. His small fleet had been separated from the main group by a nebula storm, and he had been worried that they might be lost like so many other ships. Instead, their Neo-Palm was before them. He hoped that Commander Sa Riik could find himself here soon, but had the nagging feeling that these ten ships would be the only ones to make it to Copto.

"Get ready to land us. We are at our new home!" 

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***    

"Orakio!"

The sharp voice made Orakio grit his teeth to prevent the venom in his mind from being present in his voice. "What is it, Rulakir?"

His twin walked up to him and glared at him. Brother or not, his twin had truly begun to wear on Orakio's nerves ever since Rulakir's children had been born. The way Rulakir presumed to speak to his elder brother made it clear their relationship was deteriorating.

"Are you insane?! You shouldn't have put it to a vote! You know full well that the Governors are looking for an excuse to make themselves independent from you! The only domes we would be able to hold onto are Dome 2 and Terminus! You risk us all!"

"You forget your place, _brother_. I have no choice in the matter. The loss of Group 7 has undermined the last of my authority. It's only a matter of time before we would have a full-blown civil war between our supporters and the power-hungry idiots father chose as Governors. The Republican Guard would be unable to contain the situation, and thousands would die. I won't have innocent blood on my hands!"

"And then what? If we allow the Governors more authority, we might provoke the same situation you are trying to avoid! We're falling into the same situation that preceded the Dragoon Wars!" Rulakir retorted.

"_I_ am in command, Rulakir. The decision is mine alone. I will allow the Governors greater authority in managing their domes. I will remain commander of the fleet, and all fleet decisions remain mine. Dome 2 and Terminus will remain under my direct control, as well as the Army, Security, Republican Guard, and the Elite Guard. Can't you see we're at the cliff's edge? They suspect it, and just might push us off!"

"Damn it, what about their militias? They're gathering robots and troops for war! We can't allow this!"

"_We_? Be silent, Rulakir, before I forget you're my brother. Four years! We've been out here for four years, and still we can't find Copto! From 200 ships, we've gone down to 73! Do you seriously expect them to meekly comply with my orders? Especially after all the disasters? Be happy we still control Techna and Aerone! If they learned we were lost, we wouldn't be here by the end of the week!" 

"And there you go again! They agreed to drag the two engine domes we recovered and to overhaul them into twin moons only because they want to drain our resources! What you should be doing is--"

"_Be silent!!"_ Orakio roared, out of patience. "Don't you think I already know this?! Those domes are necessary for their resources, and for the living space we need! And besides that, I'm building a factory on one of them for those expressed reasons! I don't have the time to waste! Azura and Dahlia demand my attention, as do other projects! Be glad I can't send you to the bottom of Aridian Water Reservoir! Get out and return to supervising Lashute's construction, before my knife finds a home in your guts!"

Turning away from his brother, he walked in a fury toward his aerojet. They had been in conference in the floating city of Skyhaven, the only place on ship that was safe from violence…except the violence he had been contemplating. He had been one step away from throwing them all out into the void. He had had no choice in the matter, and wanted nothing more than to spend a year away from them. The solace Sumire could provide would be sweet nectar after this headache of a meeting.

"Lord Orakio?"

"Commander?"

"Commander Sa Riik?"

Three people called for his attention at once. He turned to find Galen, Deikon, and Laya heading toward him. His fury pushed through to his face, but he tried to be brief. "Yes, what is it now? What new problem has come to punish and torture me?"

Laya glanced at them and spoke. "Commander, I want to apologize for this. I apologize I couldn't make your stay here more comfortable, and also for the rudeness of my peers. I am truly sorry."

Curtly, he said, "Thank you for trying, but it's not your fault. Deikon. I have a new job for you. Techna is being rebuilt into a fortress to protect the engines, and I want you in charge of it."

"Yes, sir, Commander."

"Galen, get ready to leave. If I stay near the Governors for 5 more minutes, not even the Elite Guard can save them."

"Yes, Lord Orakio."

Deikon and Galen walked toward the jet and began their preparations. Orakio felt Laya staring at him, so he turned around and caught her gaze. "Anything else, Governor?"

Hesitating, she finally spoke. "Commander, I wanted to invite you to my wedding. Cilor proposed to me. Though I doubt the others would agree, I consider you to be my friend. I wanted you to be-Whooo!"

She was cut off by Orakio sweeping her off her feet. "Of course I'll attend! At least this will show everyone there is still hope! Canaras and Sumire will be thrilled! I can't wait for it!"

Giggling as Orakio put her down, she looked at him gratefully. "You're lucky. I hope I can be half the wife Sumire is to you for Cilor. And thank you for accepting."

"You made it easy. Though no doubt Hawat and Galen will be very hurt they weren't chosen."

Again Laya giggled. She remembered the amount of courting that Hawat and Galen had given her, and when Cilor had realized he might lose his chance with her, he had humbled himself and pursued her rather tenaciously. To be appreciated as a lovely woman was a very nice thing. That she had chosen Cilor had been a surprise, even to her. But her happiness knew no limits at her marriage. "Yes, they will. But they'll find other women, especially Hawat! That honey-tongued flatterer could convince the stars to make a planet appear in front of us!"

Orakio smirked at that. "Don't I know it! He's a madman, but the ladies find him utterly lovable. Though I must confess his battle skills are very formidable."

"I doubt they are as impressive as yours. I must thank you again for keeping those Amazons and Samurai under control. The Punishers and Elite Guard are quite easily the best warriors in the fleet."

Orakio scowled. The Samurai and Amazons were groups of women who had run into the wilderness regions of the ship, convinced that the only way to save the fleet had been revealed to them. They differed in doctrine, though: the Samurai wished to impose ancient customs and traditions on them, while the Amazons were intent on making all the males onboard slaves. They waged war on each other in Frigidia, devastating small towns and villages in their conflict of weapon and Technique. Two other groups, Erinyes and Valkyries, had recently begun to roam Aquatica and Dome 4. His Punishers, trained by Galen, Hawat, and Deikon, had been established to control these groups. They were the only troops who stood a fighting chance against the Elite Guard.  The Elite Guard at the Capital was well-established and very elitist. Each one was a descendant of at least one of the nine ancient Dragoons of the Dragon Campaign, and had been bred genetically for 400 years. They were faster, stronger, more intelligent, and more powerful than the average trooper. It was the threat to deploy them that kept the Governors in line and under control.

"May I ask another favor, Commander?"

Orakio smoothed his face into more pleasant lines and glanced at Laya. "You've known me for four years, and consider me your friend. Yet you always call me 'Commander' and never by my name."

Laya smiled again. "Orakio, may I ask that you give away the bride?"

Orakio met her smile. "With pleasure."

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***    

Cilor paced his room in Mystoke. The city had been named the "Castle of Silence" in honor of the stillness present in the icy wastes. Comfortable as he was in the tundra, he was nervous. He was to be married today, and felt unready. Jin and Inej noted his discomfort and shared a grin. Noticing it, he whirled on them and snarled, "And what's so funny? I'll blister your asses with fire spells if you keep it up!" 

Jin gave his best innocent look and said, "Funny? I don't find anything funny. Do you Inej?"

"Just the fact that he's crazy enough to marry my sister. And the fact he's realized what he's doing. And-"

"You're not helping! How was I supposed to know I would win her? I was sure she would pick Hawat!"

"Be happy you did. I bet Ky 200 meseta you would win, and I have yet to decide how to spend them. If you hadn't won…" Inej shrugged.

Cilor ran a hand through his cyan hair. This gesture of nervousness and the lecture he intended to give the two boys was interrupted by the arrival of Orakio himself. The smirk on Orakio's face made Cilor want to turn him inside out.

"Cilor, the agridome you requested for your marriage ceremony is ready. We're all ready to go, except you. Ready to be locked away for the rest of your life?"

The glare he received only made Orakio chuckle. "The Light Brigade and a battalion of robots are present for increased security to make sure the wedding goes without a hitch. Nothing can go wrong, unless you have second thoughts and decide to back out." 

Finally, Cilor relented. He snorted as he asked, "Did they do this to you on your wedding day?"

Orakio gave him a smile. "Oh, yes. It's cruel, but it does tend to make the guy want to get it over with so that he and his new wife can go away and-"

"Commander!" The flush in Cilor's cheeks made them all burst out laughing. They were interrupted by the arrival of Lune, Cilor's best man. "Cilor? Commander? We should get going, unless Cilor wants to be late to his own wedding," Lune said with false innocence.

Orakio laughed again as Cilor sputtered indignantly. "Come, we should go. I know from experience that women do not like to be kept waiting."

They exited the main tower of Mystoke, and went to the Van parked outside for them. Less armored and armed that the Aerotank, Vans were still tough. They could be used as troop transports or combat robots. They could reach speeds of 90 kilometers, and deal with a Cooley-61 easily. The speed made the journey to the agridome last a few minutes, and they arrived with just barely enough time to spare.  Orakio left soon after they arrived. "Have to make some last minute checks. Can't let the groom escape, now can I?" he grinned at an exasperated Cilor.  

Deikon approached Orakio, in his dress uniform. "All ready sir. Nothing should go wrong today."

"Good. Let's get to your spot. I've got to get ready to give away the bride."

Deikon chuckled. "It reminds me of a certain someone's wedding. I'm 24, and haven't even gone on a date yet! Security and combat take up most of my time, and whenever I'm around a pretty girl, I can't string two sentences together!"

Orakio joined his cousin in laughter. "Don't worry about it, Deikon. The men of our family tend to have their chosen women drop into their laps. Remember what happened to Rulakir 2 years ago?"

They smiled as they recalled the incident. Lashute's construction had just begun, and they had been supervising the production of the hover engines. Rulakir had leaned forward for a better look, when a blond-haired supervisor had slipped and fallen. Rulakir had leaned out and grabbed her, and almost plummeted with her. Instead, he managed to pull her up and trip and fall on top of her. Her teasing comment had not helped Rulakir's dignity. "Thank you, Governor, but I usually wait until I know a man better before I let him go on top."

Embarrassed, Rulakir had tried to stand, but had fallen again because of a snapped tendon. She had helped him up and taken him the infirmary, saying, "A handsome gentleman like you ought to take better care of himself. Maybe I should marry you and do it for you, eh, Governor?"

This had begun a weeklong courtship, which had ended in Rulakir's marriage to Lira Ra Kiel. The fiery blonde was the opposite of Orakio's gentle Sumire in almost every way. Their only similarity was their adoration of their husbands and their children. Canaras was a robust 4-year-old who had inherited his father's black hair and his mother's golden eyes. Rulakir's twins, Lirita and Kirath, were mischievous 2 year olds with fair hair and cerulean eyes who admired their cousin and uncle.

"I'll settle for lifelong bachelorhood, thanks. The way Rulakir and you are whipped by your wives does not seem to be much fun," Deikon shot back.

Orakio's smile grew. "The rewards are worth it. If you'll excuse me, I have a bride to give away, and a wife and sister-in-law to speak with. They should be able to marry you off!"

"Orakio, if you dare, I swear on Palma's Graveyard I'll-"

"Lord Orakio? Your lady wife is asking for you."

The grin on Galen's face said it all. Sumire wasn't looking for him; Galen was just providing a convenient excuse out. Orakio matched the smile and said, "Galen, do me the favor of keeping an eye on Canaras, Lirita, Kirath, Alair, and Laya. Those tiny tyrants might decide to leave destruction in their wake. And you know what would happen then."

A grimace contorted Galen's face. "Oh, yes.  They would go over the appropriate parental knee, and get their bottoms blistered. Then I would be at the receiving end of their parent's chagrin. So I will endeavor to keep them out of trouble, if only to spare my poor ears."

"Clever lad. If you'll excuse me, I'll go see how my wife, sister-in-law, and Laya are doing."

Walking toward the back, Orakio watched as Punishers took positions to make the wedding safe and beautiful. He saw many people chatting and flirting, and Hawat flattering every pretty woman in sight, each comment more outrageous than the last. His wife's cousin was nothing, if not entertaining. Walking around the agridome's center, Orakio approached the place the women had commandeered for the bridal preparations. Walking briskly, he heard the women gossiping away about this and that, and was glad he had not married a prattling dimwit. _And thinking of the woman I married…_

"Sumire! Where are you? I want to see the woman I married! The pride and joy of my life!"

Smiling as he said this, Orakio waited for his wife to appear. It was not a long wait. His wife walked out of the central pavilion with a blush burning her face and an embarrassed smile.

"Orakio! Where are your manners? I thought you knew better than to brag all over the place and be so proud and full of yourself!" she scolded.

Laughing, Orakio went to his wife, picked her up, and sealed her lips with a kiss. They stayed like that for a while, until someone said, in a bemused voice, "He doesn't know when it's appropriate to kiss his wife either. He's the same as his brother. Those two are so hopeless! I hope you do a better job with your husband, Laya."

Breaking the kiss off, he turned to regard his sister-in-law with a smile. The fiery blonde returned the smile with a smirk. Standing next to her, Laya watched with a nervous smile. He decided that they all needed to have their dignity rocked a bit. 

"That's odd. Rulakir says that you are most content with him, even if he is hopeless. In fact, he says that when you two are in bed you are-"

"Orakio!" she shouted as a flush burned her face. "One more word, and I'll-"

"Harm your cherished brother-in-law? In an area that Sumire is very fond of? I doubt that she would soon forgive you for it. She might even decide to be vengeful and-"

"Orakio!" Sumire blushed as she tried to cut her husband off.

"Let that be a lesson to you Laya. Women might marry for a variety of reasons, but they stayed married because their husbands-"

"Orakio!" Laya blushed as red as the ruby in her forehead.

He smirked as he said, "Just making sure Cilor has a blushing bride. Come on, let's gets started.  I want to eat, drink, and let the bridal couple go away and-"

"Orakio!" the three shouted together in chagrin.

"-get better acquainted." Orakio finished without skipping a beat.

Grabbing a page on an errand, he instructed him to go ahead and commence the wedding. Taking Laya's arm, he walked her toward the area the ceremony would take place. Even as they heard the first strains of the wedding music, it became obvious something was wrong with Laya. She was dejected and moody. Worried, Orakio was going to ask what was wrong, when the first explosions came and the well-organized wedding collapsed into uncontrollable turmoil. 

"What the Hell is happening?" Orakio shouted over the panicked screams.

"Orakio!" Deikon, Galen, Rulakir, Cilor, Lune and Hawat ran over to him and Galen handed him a plasma sword and full-body battle armor. "We're under attack! Get into this!" he said urgently.

Quickly putting on the composite armor he was handed, he listened to Deikon quickly outline the situation in growing shock. _We are in for one hell of a fight, _he thought grimly.

"A massive army of robots and conventional troops attacked us a few minutes ago. Our best estimates are over 3000 women and 7000 drones of various types. The surprise attack caught us off guard, and Major Guerrero is reporting heavy losses. We need everyone with combat skills to come and fight. We've sent for reinforcements, but the garrison at Mystoke is also under attack. New Mota and Firon are rushing troops to us, but they won't arrive here for another three hours. We have to either hold out that long, or beat them. It seems that the attackers are Amazons. If we can hold out long enough, we can crush them in one blow. We're keeping them out of the agridome, but we can't do it for long without it being breached. We await orders, Commander."

Recovering his composure, he remembered the Old Master's lessons on warfare. _When faced with a situation that seems to be hopeless, unify the spirits of the army and make it clear the only way to survive is to fight. _ He turned to Galen. "Begin evacuating the dome. I want all civilians out. Activate the battle circuits in the Agribots. They're not tough enough for regular combat, but they'll have to do for a stopgap. Make sure everyone's out and take a large escort. How many troops do we have left?"

"Four hundred twenty-two can fight. The rest are dead or wounded. All drones are available"

"Galen, take two hundred with you out the back, and 1000 drones. Once the civilians are clear, go around and strike from the rear. We have to outflank them. They expect us to roll over and die, which is why they're here in such numbers. I'll lead whatever troops we can muster out in a delaying action. They have to think we value the agridome over out lives. If we can't hold out, we run away and destroy the dome. Deikon, take 200 and 1500 to the left and try to draw them away. I'll take the remainder in battle here. Hawat, you'll be watching my back."

A little boy came running toward Orakio. The black hair made it fairly obvious _whose_ little boy. Hugging the boy, Orakio knew what his son wanted.

"Papa! Mama and Aunt Lira say I gotta go with them! I don't want to! There's a fight goin' on, and they want me to be safe! But you're gonna fight, and I should too!" 

Thinking quickly, Orakio figured out a way to get the boy out safely without wounding his pride. "Canaras, I know you're learning fast, but you're still too young. If they see you, they'll kill you to hurt Mama and me. I can't fight them if you're all here. I want you to be in charge of taking your mother, cousins and the children out with Galen. I want you to get to the big city to the south, the one called Drasgow II. Tell them to send help. And you have stay and make sure they get here and you have to protect all those people you're in charge of. Can you do it?"

The little boy looked at his father and determinedly nodded his little head, ruffling the tidy black bangs. "I'll do it, Papa. I'm gonna make you proud of me!"

Running inside, the boy stopped when he came across a squad of Punishers, and then ordered them to come with him and gather up all the civilians. Startled at the tone of command coming from such a small person, the captain turned to Orakio and asked a question with his eyes, which Orakio confirmed with a nod. They ran after the boy, and obeyed. The small smile of pride on Orakio's face was interrupted by Rulakir.

"Orakio, what about the rest of us?"

Surprised, Orakio belatedly noted that Cilor, Lune, and Rulakir were also ready for combat. Laya seemed torn, but also joined them, putting on a ceramic vest. "Rulakir, you're joining Deikon. Cilor, Lune, Laya, just what in the void between stars are you _thinking_?"

Cilor spoke for them. "We can use Techs against them, Orakio. I also know how to use a staff and Lune's specialty is slashers. Laya is better at Techs than either of us, and she can support."

Hastily, Orakio decided where to send them. "Laya, you'll be going with Galen. A sudden attack from the rear by powerful Techs will buy us time and their fear. Cilor, you're coming with me at the front. Lune, you're going with Deikon. Ares, what's the situation?"

Major Ares Guerrero had arrived, and anger raged on his proud features. "Sir, we have three hundred more volunteers, but we're back where we started! Most of the people here are damned cowards, and I doubt 700 can beat back 3000! I can't shame anymore of them into growing a set and helping us!"

"We'll settle for what we can get. Ares, you're going to take 200 volunteers 500 drones and strike from the right. Are you familiar with the Dragon's Tail?

A smile blossomed on Ares' face. The green eyes danced with malicious glee. "Nice tactical choice, sir. I'm on it. And they'll hate it when my supposedly weak position strikes them from the rear with back-up."

"Glad you approve," Orakio commented wryly. " That leaves me with 2000 drones, 122 troopers, and the main corps. Hawat, Cilor, let's go. We have a battle to join.We are in for one _hell_ of a fight_._"

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***    

"Cilor! Behind you!" Orakio turned himself around to defend the lad, and in doing so, left his back unguarded. He hacked off a wrist and the spear it carried fell just before it would have pierced Cilor's spine. A quick-eyed soldier wearing the Amazon's blue harness lunged and sliced through the gap in the armor near the left shoulder. Cursing, Orakio whirled around and beheaded the woman with one powerful slash.

Ignoring the throbbing pain in his shoulder, he turned and stabbed another Amazon through the heart. Suddenly, his body's instinct told him to use a technique learned years ago. He turned his head slightly and saw Hawat's saber defending his left side, just as he protected Hawat's left. Under the stern eye of the Old Master, they had practiced this a thousand times. They were back to back, always moving, always turning, striking as one fighting unit with two swords.

Through skill and determination, they imposed their personal rhythm on the battlefield and worked their way through the Amazons like reapers scything wheat.  Someone tried for Hawat's side; Orakio ran her through. Another Amazon tried to stab Orakio with a short blade while his sword and attention were elsewhere; Hawat stopped her well short of her goal with an almost casual slice to the neck.

 Suddenly, Hawat lurched back against Orakio's shoulder, breaking the rhythm and throwing off Orakio's thrust at an Amazon throat. Instead, he hit her shoulder, and she promptly collapsed. Not bothering to make sure she was dead, Orakio turned to Hawat. The blood gushing from his right side said it all. 

"Medic! Come here at once!"

An Amazon tried to hit Orakio while he was distracted, but Hawat surprised her by lifting his saber in front of her. Taking a breath, Hawat tapped into the shadowsaber's power and said one word. "Deathspell."

The woman dropped, dead before she hit the ground. Quickly turning around he used some more of the power in the sword and performed a powerful Airslash. An Amazon used a Foi Tech that he deflected with his sword. He quickly countered with a Giwat that killed her by freezing her internal organs. 

A Van converted into an ambulance had been approaching them, and Orakio watched with relief as they pulled Hawat in, saving him from using anymore of his energy. He was less kind when they tried to get him in. Snarling, he demanded to be left behind. "I'm not injured!"

"Sir, your shoulder is bleeding so bad that it's soaked your pectoral armor. Get in, or I stun you."

He accepted their ministrations with poor grace, and quickly activated the screen. He watched as everything fell into place. Deikon had drawn a fair portion of the enemy away, and the enemy had not noticed Galen's escape, or Ares' movement to the north. Only a few minutes more, and then…

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

"Alright, we're here," Galen said, pointing at a point on the map. The escort of the civilians had been easy enough, and they'd managed to swing around the enemy's flank without too much effort. They were to the rear of the enemy, Ares' troops had reached them, and they could join the battle at any time. All they needed now was an impressive entrance.

"Yes, we are. So, how are we going to this? I mean, I doubt any single Technique would be impressive enough to scare them. These are battle-hardened troops," Ares reminded.

"I'll do my part. I have an idea how to manipulate their fears. Major, can you use Foi Techs?"

"Yes, Governor. I know Foi, Gifoi, Gires, Res, and Ner."

"Galen, cast a Gizan at the same time as the major casts Gifoi. The effect should surprise you." Laya turned to their troopers and in a loud voice said, " Now, do any volunteers know Wat?"

"I do, ma'am." A young officer in the Punisher's battle armor called.

"Good. You'll be working with me. Cast the highest-level Wat tech you know at the same time I cast. This should hurt the enemy, and earn us their fear. Let's go up this hill."

Trading confused glances, the three men followed Laya. Positioned where they were, Laya turned to the troops and shouted, "When you see the signal, charge in and attack. Don't worry, you'll know it when you see it." Turning to the men with her, she said, "On my signal, cast your techniques. Now!"

Quickly, they spoke the words that would create the devastating techniques controlled by their minds.

"GIFOI!"

"GIZAN!"

"GIWAT!"

"TANDLE!"

In awe, Galen and the rest watched as his Gifoi merged with Ares' Gizan to create an overwhelming Firestorm. And Laya's attack-_Tandle?_ , Galen thought in confusion- combined with Giwat to create a devastating thunderstorm over the enemy drones. Their troops cheered and launched a fierce charge against the enemy rear. Recovering his state of mind, Galen went with his troops to earn a victory. Even as he hacked his way through the enemy, he felt Laya cast deadly attacks at the enemy, techniques he had never seen before, but that seemed oddly familiar. _I'll have to ask later. For now, there is killing to be done._

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

Cursing hard, Deikon moved his knives into a cross guard position to catch the Amazon's axe, and prepared himself to perform the Crosscut he had learned when he was a child. Breaking the guard, he sliced through the Amazon's armor and pierced her heart. More enemy troops had followed his group then expected. Now they were caught in a battle for survival, for they were surrounded on all sides. He could only hope that Orakio, Hawat, and the rest had not forgotten them. Turning around, he heard the distinctive whirring sound made by Lune's slashers and ducked, neatly avoiding a haircut that would have leveled his head to his ear lobes. The Amazons around him were not so lucky.

"Damn it, Lune, be more careful!" Deikon bellowed. "That's the third time you almost take my head off!"

"Yes, sir." Lune said contritely. Looking around the battlefield for more targets, Lune saw something that froze the blood in his veins. "General, I think I see their leader!"

"How can you be sure? It could just be an officer!" Deikon called back irritably.

"She's wearing blue-black armor and a gold crown!" Lune responded.

"She's mine! Cover me Lune, Rulakir." Deikon ordered.

"Are you insane?! It's too rash a move! We'll get killed, General!"

"I don't care whether it's rash or not. I've already made up my mind!"

"You got it, cousin. Lune! On my signal, throw your slashers! Now!" Rulakir commanded.

Lune obeyed, and devastated a path through the Amazons for Deikon and Rulakir. Running hard, Deikon shouted a challenge at her, and barely gave her enough time to draw her sword before he attacked. Rulakir quickly went to work keeping the enemy away so that Deikon could duel her alone.

"So, you've found me after all, rabble!" She yelled at him. "Foolish man, to think yourself equal to a woman. It leads you to evil against me! And for that, you _shall_ pay the ultimate price!" 

"Spare me the sermon! Save your voice for your death scream! Once you die at a man's blade, your Amazons will scatter, crushed!" he growled back.

An overhead slash was blocked by Deikon's cross guard. He tried to perform a Crosscut, to catch her the same way as he had done to one of her soldiers, but she proved too quick and dodged out of the way. She attempted to stab him in the back, but his armor and his own speed blunted the effort. Turning around, he went for her wrist, trying to cut it off, but she deflected the attack. Her riposte would have ruined his digestion permanently if he had not jumped backwards. Taking advantage of her momentum, Deikon kicked out and caught her helm. It clattered to the ground and she fell with it. He waited for her to get up, and prepared himself for another go. She tranquilly recovered her blade, and turned to face Deikon, glaring at him. Deikon was stunned. This woman was a great beauty. Black-haired, eyes so blue that they matched the amethyst in her forehead, with delicate features, he could not even think straight. She returned his mind to battle by lunging at him again. Jumping toward her blade this time, he landed on it and heard the crack that meant he had dislocated her shoulder. She fell and rolled over with a groan of pain. Placing his boot on her throat, he spoke simply. "Yield."

Her eyes lit up with fury, but the fire in them died. "Help me," she whispered.

Deikon snorted contemptuously. "Life you may have, but not trust. Surrender your Amazons. Or I swear on Palma's Graveyard, I'll gather up the Elite Guard and the Punishers and crush them. I'll slaughter them and leave their corpses for the scavengers. Do you want that to happen?"

"Damn you! I won't give up while a mere _man_ gloats over me. I won't surrender to a man!"

Deikon met her glare for glare. He shouted in a voice so loud it carried all across battlefield. "I have your leader at my feet! She lives! But for how long depends on you! Abandon the field, and leave us in peace! I swear you shall not be harmed. If not, if you refuse to do what common sense demands, I will kill you all!"

Suddenly, Deikon saw a massive Firestorm raging at the main battlefield. A thunderstorm joined it, and Deikon decided it was time to make a spectacular bluff. "See what we do to your sisters now! We turn the elements against them! Not even the strongest among you has the power to create _that_!"  

He felt their fear, and decided to play his trump card. "Leave. Never bother Lord Orakio's forces again, and we shall let you live. Lord Orakio desires peace. He does not desire death! I shall spare your leader as a sign of good faith. Shall you return it?"

Bending down, he helped the woman up. Her glare remained steady, but she could not disguise her admiration of him. He tried not to look at her, for fear of breaking his composure. She softly asked, "What is your name, warrior?"

He turned to face her and said, "I am Deikon Sa Riik, cousin of Governor Rulakir and Commander Orakio Sa Riik. General in charge of Techna and chief of fleet security."

She smiled at him. "I am Selbren, leader of the Amazons. It seems I misjudged you men, and you in particular. We shall meet again. As a token to make sure we do, take this." 

Quickly, she kissed him and shouted an order to retreat. Deikon could only watch as they ran away, ignoring his troops, and soon, the battlefield was empty, save for the dead and wounded. He turned to see Rulakir and Lune watching him. "Cousin, while I admire what you just accomplished, don't you think you should be going after that girl?" Rulakir asked solicitously.

"I agree, Governor. Perhaps the General should go after her. It would certainly go a long way toward pacifying this dome and the rest of the ship." Lune said with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"I was thinking along different lines. I was thinking that he might to have her so that she-"

Discerning where Rulakir's thoughts were going, and turning red to his earlobes, Deikon said, "Shut up!"

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

"They're retreating?" Orakio echoed in disbelief.

"Yes, sir. Seems our attack from the rear shocked them witless. They're running from Mystoke as well. As far as we can tell, they are in full retreat." 

Orakio shook his head at Ares' reply. This battle had seemed hopeless, but in two hours, they had managed to defeat an enemy force more than four times their own. But the casualties were undoubtedly going to be very high. "I see why the Light Brigade is the best unit in the Punishers. We should withdraw to Mystoke after we pick up the dead and wounded. We need to talk about this while it's still fresh in our minds."

"Right away, Lord Orakio." Galen and Ares said at the same time, earning an annoyed glance from Orakio. _I hate it when they do that! And they know it, too!_

Heading toward the Landrover that had arrived shortly after the enemy retreat, he worried about the complications of this attack. The news of the wedding had been widespread, and it had been common knowledge that it would take place in an agridome. _Which_ agridome had been a carefully guarded secret. That the Amazons had attacked in such numbers and such precision indicated they knew the when and how of the wedding. Spies, perhaps even one of the Politicians who had been at the wedding, must of told them. But for what possible gain? 

The drive back to the seven towers of Mystoke Castle was quiet. No robots attacked, no animals, nothing but silence. Once they had arrived, the wounded were led to the infirmary, and the leaders that had survived the battle went to the reception room in the central tower to be debriefed on the situation. Orakio looked at them all and began to speak.

"As far as can be determined, the attack at the agridome was not a stroke of blind luck. They had been tipped off, but we don't know by whom or why. Of the 600 soldiers, 300 volunteers, 4000 combat droids, and 1000 agribots that fought in the battle, 697 people were wounded, killed, or are still missing. The droids took 88% casualties. The agridome survived with minimal damage, as did Mystoke. The Amazons were worst off. They fielded 8700 warriors and 18,800 droids, which we whittled down 5400 and 6000. Any information or speculation would be greatly appreciated."

Deikon stood up and spoke first. "Commander, they didn't run away from us. They left because I had their leader under my knife. I offered them their leader in exchange for our lives. It might not have worked if you hadn't used whatever weapon you did to make that firestorm. They were afraid you would use against them next, so they ran for all they were worth. We lost them when they scattered into the tundra."

"What?! You let their murdering bitch of a leader escape?!"

This was bellowed out by Governor Tyros of Aquatica. A surly fat man, he had a reputation for being a coward who hid behind functions and ceremonies, and ran away at the first sign of danger. Before he could begin to give Deikon a brusque dressing down, Orakio spoke in his coldest voice.

"Governor, Deikon's actions saved all our lives. And from what my son tells me, you were the first person in line out of the dome. I know about your abilities with an axe, and you should have been out fighting like the rest of us were. So, I'll make you a deal. I _will_ remove you from office and not tell all the denizens of the ship of how much of a coward you are, and you silently retire. Or, you make a loud protest and are reproved for the coward you are. Your choice. I would choose the former."

As the fat man became red as a Scorpirus in silent outrage, Orakio mocked in a quiet voice, "I do not believe the presence of any cowards is wanted right now. All of you who ran away who could fight alongside us are being removed from office. Leave. Now."

A number of people walked out. An uneasy silence ensued, which Rulakir broke. "It's when the dragon's roar is softest is when he is most dangerous," he commented loudly. 

Orakio managed a thin smile. He glanced at the remainder, who had fought alongside him, and finally turned to Laya. "I owe you an apology that you were wedding went so bad. We'll do a private ceremony tomorrow. Will that suit?"

"It will," Cilor answered for her and him. "But for now, I think we need to deal with what happened."

"Yes, we do. Ares, I don't know of any techniques that created those powerful storms. What were they?"

"They weren't single techs. Somehow, the techs we used merged into one powerful attack. They did most of the damage to the Amazons, and thanks to Deikon's quick thinking, saved our lives," Ares answered.

"Speaking of which, you all have to be rewarded for you quick thinking and courage." He turned to Ares first. "Major, how does a promotion to General sound?"

Ares' jaw dropped, before he made a strangled noise. He finally spoke in a cracking voice, "I'm only twenty-seven years old!"

"And I'm twenty-eight, and commander of this fleet, nonetheless. Rewards go to people with ability, not seniority. Cilor, the mayor of Shusoran was killed and the mayor of Kirlante ran. Do you think you can be mayor of both cities?"

Cilor followed Ares' example. As did Lune when Orakio offered him Governorship of Dahlia. Though Cilor politely declined, Lune exuberantly accepted.

"Deikon, I'm thinking of giving you Dome 4. You'll be charge from Techna. Think you can handle it?"

"Of course. Though I'll run it the same way I run security and Techna, you know."

"Go right ahead and piss off the Politicians. They're too pompous anyway," Orakio encouraged with a smile. "Mayor Seth? Yaata needs a new mayor. Interested in the job?"

The black-haired, black-eyed mayor of Catha Island regarded Orakio. "I can handle it. Thank you for the confidence." **You fool. You sow the seeds of your doom.**

"Alright. Let's hope this leads to peace on board ship."

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

"Laya? May I ask a question?"

Galen's indigo eyes regarded Laya's sapphire eyes. She met his direct gaze with curiosity. "Of course. What would you like to know, Galen?"

"The technique you used on the battlefield. I've never seen it before. Also, I never heard of techs merging like that. I want to know about them."

"I'm not surprised you've never seen it before. My technique is what they call 'magic.' The combination attack was based on a theory I heard as a child, that energy could be mixed to create a more powerful attack. So I took a gamble, and hoped it was true."

Galen's jaw had dropped long before she had finished. When he finally recovered, he whispered one word. Even so, it made Laya stiffen in dread. "Esper."

She turned, surprised, and quickly pleaded, "Don't tell anyone! If anyone found out, I would be killed! Please Galen! Don't do this to me!"

Galen did not hesitate in his response. "I won't. And thank you for trusting me enough to tell me. But I do want to know how to do what you can do. Call it a professional interest."

"If you have the gifts, I will teach you." Laya responded in relief.

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

In a dark room, deep in the sublevels of Mystoke Castle, several beings gather. Only two of them have human shapes, one of them tied to the floor. The other is recognizable as Seth. The rest have their bodies swathed by cloaks, and face concealed by masks. 

"Are you sure it is done?" Seth hissed in an inhuman voice.

"It is done. The seeds of distrust are sown. Soon, they shall reap their death. And then, we shall return to Algo to free our god. The Profound Darkness shall be freed, and the universe destroyed."

"We can not fail, Chosen of the Darkness. Soon…soon we will see our god!"

The woman recoiled in fear of them. Her voice, though quivering with terror, marked her as Astarte. She fearfully asked, "What do you want? What are you going to do to me?"

Seth glared at her. "Simple. Your soul and body. We shall use you to create a gift from our world to yours. You shall birth a _Ly'sefalz._ **You shall serve me as I corrupt you. And you have no way to escape that fate**."

Seth's eyes were no longer black. They were the crimson of pure evil. And his laughter was inhuman as it echoed off the walls.


	4. Dark Secrets

Soon after the end of the ceremony, all of the visitors had left, and the Espers had gathered for their own debate over the events of the last week. For the last three hours, the Esper adults had been arguing about the battle and it's effects on their mission. The children had been put to sleep, and they had gathered in the secure room Laya used as her office. It had not been a fun three hours.

"But it's true, Laya!" Cilor shouted, out of patience. "I _felt_ dark energy being used! I saw Orakio's friend kill with a word! Then, I saw him slash at the air and kill at least 10 Amazons! Dark Force is here, and in control! Orakio didn't even bat an eyelash when he saw what Hawat did!"

Laya's temper flared then. "And what can we do about it? Orakio is in control! He commands more might than we do! We can't just declare war on him! Our soldiers and robots would be crushed!"

Jilain intervened before the newly-weds could rip into each other...again "Enough! We might be looking at the problem from the wrong angle. Hawat may just be a pawn in Dark Force's game. What we need to do is set up contingency plans. Any ideas?"

Lune spoke up. "Orakio would notice a build-up of robots and soldiers, but not monsters. We can always use our magic to create them, the way Medusa did. That way, we can fight a war with the element of surprise."

Liradi was shaking his head before Lune had finished. "I know of no spells to create life the way you are suggesting. The only Espers we are aware of who could do that were Medusa and Stileco. The Reverent Lutz could probably do it, but has suppressed the knowledge if he does know."

"Lune has the right idea, but the wrong way to implement it." Purple-haired Vel didn't speak much, but when he did, it was usually to convey something important.

"Oh? Then how would you implement it?" Mia's voice carried disdainful challenge. She affected a strong disapproval of Vel that made their relationship tense.

Vel ignored the antagonism. "Laya, is it true that Orakio is considering building a Bio-Plant?"

"Yes. He wants to create a natural ecosystem on the ship, so that the strain on the maintenance systems isn't as great as it is now. It's being based on the plans of the Bio-Plant that used to be on Motavia. Right now, they're looking for a secure location to build it. What are you thinking, Vel?" Laya asked curiously.

"Only this. Propose that the plant be built on Dahlia at the next Political Assembly. That way, we can industrialize the moon, and create the monsters we need. And it gives us a solid base to work with to fight the legions Dark Force will create."

"I have an idea. If it does come down to war, we will be heavily outnumbered. We can create a gene agent that would give our people the gifts we have. That would knock down the odds a bit more." Mia proposed.

Jilain protested. "It would take years to do that! The Espers aren't sure of how the gifts are passed on! Cilor is a half-Esper, but has more talent and power than I do, and I'm fully Esper! And that's just part of the problem! How would we be sure that the gene would be passed on successfully passed on to the next generation?"

Cilor cut him off. "The Bio-Plant on Motavia was able to create the clone cylinders. Not only that, those clones had the memories and talents of the deceased. I'm sure the one being built could map an appropriate way to pass on that sort of power. Also, we could use it to improve the Espers into metamorphs."

Confused silence met this last remark. "Try again, with the help files open his time, Cilor," Jin said with a mournful little shake of his head.

Cilor gestured impatiently. "You know the stories. Stileco created vampires, genuine vampires that could change into bats and humans. He made werewolves as well. There's also the story about the Dark Esper that could transform into a Gold Dragon. Light, Stileco even mutated his own body into a crude Dark Force! That would help us a great deal, we could figure out how to do it."

"And who's going to volunteer? You?" Laya challenged, concern hidden behind fierce anger.

Cilor met her glare for glare. "Yes, I am volunteering. Lutz gave us a mission, and I intend to carry it out, by whatever means necessary!"

Laya's sapphire eyes flashed, and she prepared to do battle. Once again, Jilain intervened to prevent another fight. "We're doing a great deal of talking, and getting nothing done with it! Let's relax, and allow a solution to present itself." He paused before finishing. "And work to create one as well. Agreed?"

Heads nodded in agreement. Maia noticed the glares Laya and Cilor were giving each other, and quietly murmured, "I think it's time for you two to be on your honeymoon. Frigidia isn't much of a place, so I arranged for a vacation to Aqautica for you. Will that be enough to make you two _relax_?"

One blonde head and one blue head nodded. An impertinent smirk crossed Cilor's face. "It will let Laya and I get _so_ much better acquainted." 

The red that streamed into Laya's face made them all laugh with a much needed release of tension.

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

Orakio glared balefully at the sunny day Climate Control had seen fit to provide. His office had been modeled to resemble the one on Palm: with massive windows, hidden compartments, and a utilitarian service toward beauty. To be forced to deal with paperwork while there was such beauty outside was guaranteed to make him lose his sanity. He got up to get circulation back into his legs.

Before Orakio could even consider an escape plan, three small blurs burst into the inner room, forgetting to close the outer room's door. They swarmed all over him, yelling for indulgences at the top of their lungs. He smiled as he playfully exclaimed, "Help! I'm being attacked by midgets!"

Canaras had somehow climbed to the top of his head and bent over to say, "Papa! Mama and Auntie Lira say we can't go into the gardens cuz we gotta look nice for the visitors! We wanna go and play! We promise not to get dirty!"

Lashute had just been completed, and the beautiful gardens had been built in to provide relief for the gigantic floating city-fortress' inhabitants were also done. That they wanted to play there was no surprise. Little Lirita seconded this as she hugged his legs. "Pwease Uncle Owakio! We're bowed! We keep being told to go pway by the adults, but they won't let us pway!"

"Alright! A little time in the sunshine won't kill us. So get off so I can walk!" Orakio agreed.

They managed to swarm off in record time, and he took Kirath's and Lirita's hands as they walked out. Canaras smugly rode on his father's shoulders as they walked to the gardens. Kirath tugged impatiently at his hand. "Huwwy, Uncle! Befowe Mama finds us!" he insisted.

Once they arrived at the gardens, Canaras executed a beautiful flip off his father's shoulders and onto the ground. _Impressive. _Orakio thought. _I couldn't do that when I was his age. Guess it must be Sumire's genes showing up…or showing off. The Old Master and Dad would have been very proud of their grandson._

The children laughed and chased each other around the gardens, being careful not to step on the flowers. Their shouts and giggles made Orakio feel better and little envious. _Damned lucky kids. _They_ don't have to worry about feeding 10 million people, managing a fleet, keeping the peace, and finding a new world for them to live on. All they have to worry about is getting away with their shenanigans and having fun._

He was so caught up in his musings, Orakio neglected to notice the stealthy approach of his bodyguard until Galen was right behind him "Lord Orakio?"

Startled, Orakio whirled around, only to have to sigh away his adrenaline rush. "Oh, it's you, Galen. What's the matter? And don't be bringing my wife's scolding please."

Galen managed a strained smile that made Orakio worry all the more. "I don't bring such tidings, my Lord. May we please speak in private? There's something you need to know."

Orakio nodded, then turned toward the children. "Alright, kids! Playtime is over for now. We have to go wait for those annoying Politicians to show up now. Timothy, would you mind taking them up to the Sunrise Balcony?"

"Not a problem, my Lord," the brown-haired Guard replied. He quickly enticed the children to go upstairs with a bribe of cookies and milk, plus a story.

Quickly, Orakio led the way back up to his office. Once there, he locked the doors and sat down at his desk. "I take it this is _very_ bad news that I shouldn't be standing to hear."

Galen nodded grimly. "I have good news, bad news, worse news, and worst news. The good news is that Azura will be completed on schedule."

"Softening the blow? This must be worst than I thought."

"The bad news is that Mayor Teradoc's aerojet crashed near the Lensol region teleporter." Galen continued listlessly.

"Damn it to all Hells! Teradoc was one of our strongest supporters!" Orakio fumed.

"And the worse news is that civil war has broken out on the _Odin's Axe_." Galen said.

Orakio was stunned into total silence. After an interminable pause, he softly said, "You have got to be kidding me, Galen. How did that happen?"

"That's were we get to the worst news. The _Noah_ and the _Abion's Dreams_ both entered an interstellar gas cloud. A charged one, no less. Once the cloud passed, it left behind the remains of two domes. There were no survivors." Galen finished and looked at his mentor. 

Mentor or not, Orakio was dumbfounded. A charged gas cloud easily unleashed 1-megaton lightning bolts. That the two ships had strayed into it, that over 20 million people were now dead was a hard blow. He raised himself out of his stupor and asked, "Why did a war start?"

Galen grunted. "Seems Governor Rem had had enough of the disasters. He simply attacked, without warning might I add, the Capital City on the _Axe_ and turned it into a hot zone. Hot as in radiation, mind you. Colonel Captison retaliated, and they're dueling for control of Domes 1, 4, and 7 as we speak. Captison is in command of the ship because-"

"Let me guess. General Remora was at the Capital, and so was Commodore Yon when Rem nuked it into happy glowland." Orakio muttered sarcastically.

"That's it exactly, sir. Captison is requesting reinforcements. He wants to put down the revolt ASAP. He is also requesting permission to conscript the ship denizens. Seems they're so heavily outnumbered by Rem's forces that not even their technology edge puts a dent in the enemy."

"Tell Captison that he has my permission to engage in this war as aggressively as possible. He is to be promoted to General, and is forbidden to use ABC weapons. Tell him to work with what he has. We don't have anything to spare him except 1000 Dogbots and Robomen that won't be available until after the Assembly." 

"Yes, sir." Galen paused. "What do we tell the Politicians?"

"We tell them-" Orakio hesitated, then continued firmly, "We tell them that I am declaring martial law throughout the fleet."

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

"Wonder what's up…" Lune muttered to Cilor.

"Could be something as simple as a glitch in Climate Control, and we have a sudden rainstorm coming up," Cilor replied easily. The experiments had already begun, albeit secretly, to produce a metamorph. That he was so calm actually meant he was most anxious. _Maybe I should have listened to Laya._ He silently admitted. Thinking of his wife, he turned to give her a quick kiss that surprised her.

"I thought you weren't a person who enjoyed public displays of affection," she reminded him.

"I am when I remember it. Your lovely face has a way of making me forget about everything else," he responded good-naturedly.

They were standing near Lashute's airport, taking stock of all the soldiers milling about with some sort of purpose. A young girl dressed in fiery pink and red appeared right behind them. "Hello, Your Excellencies. I am to escort you to your quarters. Please, follow me."

As they followed their exuberant guide, they listened to her chatter about the city. "Welcome to Lashute. This is Lord Orakio's greatest achievement to date. The city covers an area of over 2 square kilometers. To save space onboard, Lord Orakio chose to implement the same hover engines used in Skyhaven's construction. Since Lashute is not protected by the same treaties that apply to Skyhaven, a massive barrier system similar to the ones installed on Wren-type androids is in place for passive defense. Our active defenses are a variety of energy and projectile cannons that could easily shoot down Skyhaven. The Hanging Gardens-" at this she gestured to her right "-were built to enhance the beauty of the city and increase the recreational ease of the inhabitants. We also have a large garrison of Punishers and the new Fatima. The Fatima are-"

"A group of female fighters who can use Techniques," Lune interrupted with a great deal of contempt. "They are, supposedly, elite, tough, and quite beautiful. More like Orakio's bootlickers." 

The girl nodded tolerantly. "That's correct, Your Excellency. Though I doubt any of the Punishers or Fatima could take you on, one-on-one," she continued, her sarcasm evident.

Lune scowled at this, while his fellow Espers shared a smirk. "Unless you'd like to change my opinion," he growled, adopting an unarmed combat stance.  Lune had been a tall, skinny youth, but now that he had reached adulthood, he had become an imposing giant of a man. Anyone facing him like this would be so intimidated that they would have, to quote some of the street language, 'pissed in their pants.' The girl, barely reaching up to his chest, was lithe and petite were Lune was muscular and bulky.  Nonetheless, the girl had him down on the floor in seconds. Lune blinked, while Laya and Cilor laughed at their friend.

"I believe I neglected to introduce myself, Your Excellency. I am Kara Sa Trey, a Fatima of Lord Orakio. And I am not even one of our best. So please, try to be more careful with your opinions," she stated serenely.

Lune finally allowed himself a laugh. Quite calmly, he got up and faced Kara. "My dear, I find myself desirous of your company. The Assembly is not until tomorrow morning. Will you be joining us for dinner tonight? Say around eight?" he asked, eyeing her all the while.

The girl did not drop her guard. She did, however, allow a mischievous smile to appear that accented her dimples. "Governor, I do believe that dinner tonight will make up for your lack of manners today. Now, allow me to continue my escort of you to your quarters."

Without further incident, they arrived at their quarters. Once Lune had wandered into his spacious suite, Laya shared a sly smile with Cilor. "200 meseta say that he marries the girl," Laya declared emphatically. 

Cilor raised an eyebrow in skepticism. "Love, don't you think we should wait until dinner before we decide whether or not anything else happens? He could be genuinely trying to make up for his rudeness." 

Laya chuckled. "You don't believe that for a minute! You saw the way they looked at each other! I grew up with Lune. I know when he's smitten, and that's what just occurred! The girl felt the same way."

"My usual refusal to believe anything til I see it, love. Besides, she could only be trying to seduce him to raise herself up through the ranks faster. Lune _is _governor of Dahlia," Cilor reminded.

"You always look for the worst in people, don't you?" Laya demanded.

"Of course. That's why I married you. I couldn't find anything wrong with you at all. You laughed at my jokes, smiled prettily, and stole my heart, all to perfection." Cilor replied easily.

"I'm honored," Laya murmured wryly.

"Very good. Seeing as we have a few hours, I can think of one or two ways to pass them by. Can you?"

Laya giggled. "Oh, yes. Why don't we enjoy ourselves as most couples do?"

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

Orakio paced outside the Assembly Hall. Designed to resemble the old Imperial Hall of Palm, it easily sent its message of royalty and command. He had attired himself in the same armor he had used at the Battle on the Tundra, as the clash against the Amazons had been named, because he now had to give the same message of strength and command the Hall conveyed. _I seem to have coups following me around,_ he thought ruefully. _On Palma, I overthrew the government to keep the peace. Now, I have to order them to instate a police state until the crisis on the _Axe_ is resolved. Hell, am I going to be _popular_ today._

Ares appeared, saluting smartly in his gold armor. Deikon followed him in, wearing Security's black riot gear. Hawat, wearing the gray ceramic plate mail that his _Dalvel'im_ used, was the last to arrive. Making eye contact, Orakio received their tacit support, and then proceeded to make his entrance into the Hall.

"Oh, no…" Laya said as soon as she saw Orakio enter wearing combat armor.

 Lune turned to her and quietly asked, "Is he going to do what I think he's going to do?"

"I don't know. I-" 

"Look, he's going to say something," Seth told them.

Orakio was, in fact, preparing to speak, but the clamor the Assembly was making was taking longer to die down than he expected. Instead of ordering them to be silent, he waited for them to finish, as if he had all the time in the world. _Never issue a command. Let the command issue itself._

When at last they became silent, Orakio began to speak. "Undoubtedly, you all have had thoughts that your careers might be forcibly shortened. At present that is not the case. At 1300 hours yesterday, we received word that two more worldships have been lost, the _Noah _and the_ Abion's Dreams._ We also received word that Governor Rem of the _Odin's Axe_ engaged in a sneak attack on the established government of that ship. Using forbidden nuclear weapons, he killed close to 120,000 people who lived in the Capital. A full-blown civil war is occurring on that ship as we speak. As of now, I am declaring martial law throughout the fleet. This meeting is suspended until the present crisis is resolved."

And with that, Orakio left. Deikon and his Security Corps ushered the Politicians out of the Hall. Ares and Hawat had left with Orakio to issue the appropriate orders to the Punishers and the Fatima. Laya and Lune shared a worried look before they chose to follow Deikon out. Seth tagged along with them. Laya called out to Deikon before he got too far ahead of them. Once Deikon had seen who called him, he stopped long enough for them to catch up, then resumed walking.

"What is it, Laya?" he said bluntly. 

"I want to talk to Orakio, Deikon. There has to be a diplomatic solution to this crisis."

"I don't think you were paying attention. Rem used _nuclear_ weapons on a defenseless city full of innocent people. Casualties are mounting on that ship as we speak. Close to 500,000 have already died, and you want to get _a diplomatic solution?!_"

Laya was shocked that Deikon had actually raised his voice; he had always been so quiet and calm that to see him agitated like this brought home how desperate the situation actually was. She and Lune quietly followed him to the communications center, where Orakio was organizing troop deployments. He stopped long enough to nod a hello, and then went back to work. Lune unobtrusively followed Deikon and Ares to the situation board, and listened to them plan out how and where to fight if war came to _Alisa III_; tactics and strategy had always fascinated him, and he was a champion _cheops_ player. Laya watched the men and women in the room run around creating order out of chaos, then settled in to wait.

After about two hours, a Guard requested that she please go to Lord Orakio's wardroom. As she followed the brown-haired man, she wondered how she could convince Orakio to construct the Bio-plant on Dahlia. _Well, I guess desperation will fuel inspiration._

As soon as they reached the reception chamber, she saw Lune and Seth had also been summoned. Before she could speak to them, the aide said, "Please enter. Lord Orakio will see you now."

The wardroom matched Orakio's utilitarian tastes. They were led to a small table and seated before Orakio walked in. His black hair was in disarray, and his countenance betrayed exhaustion. _Poor Orakio,_ Laya thought. _His responsibilities, almost as much as his conscience, weigh heavily on him._

Orakio slumped into his chair.  He turned weary eyes first to Laya, then to Lune and Seth, and back to Laya. "You three have been here for at least several hours. What is so important that it can't wait?"

Laya gave him a sympathetic look before she began to speak. "Orakio, this situation will require every robot you have, correct?"

"Every robot and more. We would barely be able to contain a situation even if we continued mass-production of the new quad-circuit drones to the exclusion of all other industry," Orakio confirmed, somnolent.

"Then I have a suggestion to make. The Bio-plant proposal…"

"What about it? We both know it would probably never pass voting by the Politicians. It was doomed almost from the start." Orakio was getting annoyed. He didn't have the time to-

"Yes, but you declared martial law. All expenses can be explained as military necessity. If we build the Bio-plant on Dahlia in secrecy, the other Politicians will be none the wiser. If the plant is built fast enough, hundreds of robots will be freed up for other duties, and the new animals the plant will breed will take their place in everything from organic waste disposal to fertilization."

"Plus, you know I can be trusted, Commander. The plant will be built with a maximum of secrecy and efficiency. You have my word," Lune finished.

Orakio paused to think, and in so doing would-unwittingly- make one of the greatest mistakes in his life. _They're right. This would certainly make life a lot easier. We can spare 3000 Arachne construction drones. Yes, this will work out fine._ "You have my authorization to do this. The three of you are responsible for the construction and completion of the Dahlian Bio-plant. Get to work."

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

Lune quickly packed for the long trip back to Dahlia, and swore when the tone rang in his quarters. He bellowed for them to come in, and resumed his hasty packing. A very familiar voice startled him. " Are we ready to go, Your Excellency?" 

"Kara?! What in the name of the void between stars are you doing here?!"

She smiled at his shock. "Lord Orakio has decided to assign a small group of Fatima to Dahlia. He has a project in mind for the new Bio-plant that will require our presence. My company was the one chosen. I thought you would be much more pleased that I would be going along with you, Lune!"

Lune blushed. _Ridiculous! At my age, I'm blushing. I feel like an idiot._

Before Lune could continue his self-condemnation, Seth walked in. "The aerojet is ready. Lune, get a move on, will you? We-oh! I see you have company." Seth bowed slightly. "I am Mayor Seth of Catha Island and Yaata. It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss."

Kara curtsied. "The pleasure is all mine, Your Honor. Allow me to accompany you back to the jet. We have a long journey ahead of us." 

With a gentlemanly gesture, Seth said, "After you, miss."

Kara easily walked out, and before Seth followed after, he whispered to Lune, "I'd keep an on eye on that girl, Lune. She is pretty much a walking dream, and I'd hate to steal her away from you."

Upon hearing this last, Lune swore that he would be the one to win Kara's heart, not any other man.

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

"My Lord, construction is proceeding ahead of schedule. We are sure to complete this facility well before the beginning of the New Year. We have already begun to complete the experiments for Project Reploid.  We have found a subject willing to donate some genetic material so that we may grow her skin in the clone vats, allowing it to grow over the android skeleton. Artificial organs of the type usually used to replace grievous injuries are being fashioned from bio-fibers. To all but the most advanced scans, this android will appear to be completely human. As per your instructions, we have inserted an advanced cognitive matrix equipped with empathetic programming and advanced autonomous decision making skills. Tests with the prototypes show hyper-conditioned reflexes and superhuman strength even higher than projected. Using data projected by the facility computer, we have improved the strength of the organic material to the resistance level of steel. Would you like to see the prototypes, Lord Orakio?" Levenbrech Kara Sa Trey said in one breathless rush.

Orakio managed to smile weakly and nodded his approval. In the eighteen months since he had suspended the Assembly, Lune and Seth had been hard at work building the new Bio-plant and producing useful creatures. They had previously introduced waste-eating Slimes, and had been releasing new Chirpers and Moos. Already, the _Alisa III_ maintenance systems showed a marked decrease in strain. The robots released from those mundane duties were given a modicum of combat programming, and assigned to military duty. And he had a personal reason to hope the new androids succeeded. Orakio's smile became a frown. "What are these new droids called?" 

Kara gave Orakio a disapproving look. "These new _cyborgs_ are called MIEU-types. That stands for Mia Emulation Units, after the original donor. Droids really isn't the correct name for them, since they blur the line between living and robotic."

Orakio adopted a sheepish look. It was clear that this young Fatima was _very_ proud of these new creations, and it would not do to anger one of the designers. They continued onward, with Kara providing a running commentary on everything, until they reached a sealed room with a glass pane inhabited by two individuals. They were both young women, flame-haired and blue-eyed, with lithe, petite bodies skimpily clad in matching red leotards. An amazing amount of beauty marked their faces and an unmistakable similarity declared them both to be closely related. Orakio was about to ask where the prototypes were when he realized that neither of the two had blinked since they had arrived. 

They're _the androids?! _Orakio blinked in surprise. He had not expected _this_ level of perfection!

Kara had already activated the intercom and was speaking to the two. "Mieu, Miun, rise and shine! We have a very important guest who wants to meet you!"

They both blinked, and smiled jointly at Orakio. He was totally disconcerted. He finally gave a slight formal bow and said, "It is a pleasure to meet you two ladies. I am Orakio Sa Riik. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?"

The one on the left spoke first, her voice cheery and totally human. "If you had been paying attention, you'd have heard Kara say our names! Silly Commander!"

Her twin abetted with, "Really, Lord Orakio! I thought you were a married man! Our pretty faces shouldn't have thrown you that much off balance that you'd forget everything else!"

Orakio began to laugh. They were very charming, and had the same fiery quality as Lira did. The two continued to smile, and Kara also had a smug smirk in place. After he finished laughing, he turned to the two once again. "Very well. I take it that Mieu is the smart-aleck on the left and her twin Miun is the comedy relief on the right?" 

The one on the left gasped. "Amazing! He has common sense, Miun! However are we supposed to fool such a man?" The mock despair in her voice was truly comedic.

Her twin smiled and winked at Orakio. "Oh, we'll figure something out, Mieu."

Orakio laughed even harder at this last than he had at their original wisecracks. When he finished he regarded Mieu. "Tell me, Mieu. Do you think you can handle an inventive five-year-old who is as sneaky and cunning as a learned politician?"

She smiled with the slightest hint of superiority. "I can handle any child."

Orakio gave her a smile that was pure malevolent glee. "You get to handle Canaras, Mieu. You will be eating those words at the end of the first week."

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

Elsewhere on the moon of Dahlia, in the very same facility that Orakio was challenging Mieu to a verbal fencing match, one blue-haired man and one lime-haired man were staring at each other. Finally, Lune relented. "Alright, Cilor. What is it?" 

"The results. I want to know what was on them Lune. I have a right to know whether we failed." Cilor's imperious nature was hard to resist, but resist it Lune did. 

"I have orders from Laya to report the results exclusively to her," he began, clutching the hard copy report he had been about to send to her.

"Lune, you know me. I can get what I want either by persuasion, or I beat it out of your thick skull. The choice is yours. I would prefer the former option." Cilor's tone of voice was ominous.

Lune sighed. Yes, he knew Cilor. And he didn't doubt that Cilor could-and would-carry out his threat. So he simply stated, "Project Medusa is a success."

Cilor was about to smile, when one of the Fatima assigned to the satellite approached Lune. "Governor, I have a report that needs to be forwarded to Lord Orakio."

"What is it? I'll deliver it myself when I see him in a minute," Lune commented.

The girl noted Cilor's presence, then gestured for Lune to bend down. Once he did, she whispered a report than made Lune's face turn a pasty white. He turned and ran toward the elevator that led to the Prototype Testing Lab. Cilor grabbed the girl's shoulder before she could leave. "What is it?" he asked.

She shook him off, and said, "That is classified military data and I cannot-"

Cilor cut her off by grabbing her by both shoulders and whirling her around to face him. With a vicious voice of command, he said, "Tell me what has happened."

Against her will, she said, "Rem has managed to reverse-feed the _Odin's Axe_'s reactors! The ship's going to explode in 27 hours!"

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

The subspace transceiver on Dahlia could barely receive Captison's communication to Orakio. "Com…der, I …orry to report th… but there is lit…hance of remo…ng Rem from the …Tower. I've alr…y led thr…saults, and be…beaten back. We…aban…ing ship, but…doubt that we…get every… off. Children first.  They…ing to _Alisa_…Believe…one dome….survive…please…recover…survivors.Do...6. Colonel Captison out!"  

Orakio's tanned face had become paler than impure laconia. He quickly barked, "Get every shuttle ready! All the children will be heading here, and we will need to provide homes. Get an order to Aerone to change course to a retrieval point to recover the survivors on Dome 6 when that thing explodes! I want all the military units and reserves put on full alert! And prepare my shuttle! Get a move on!"

Orakio's commands were quickly followed, and he watched as Lune approached him. "Commander, I doubt there is more you can do. Please, let us handle it. We-"

"Lune, when you're a father, you'll understand what those parents on the _Axe_ are feeling right now. But right now, _don't even think of getting in my way_!!"

Orakio turned to the two cyborgs. "Mieu, Miun, you're coming with me. Let's go."

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

Captison turned around to regard the Control Tower one last time.  A tall, lean man coming on his thirtieth year, he was gripped by an ancient sadness. The war had been so close to being won, here on the barren desert wastes of Dome 7, but Rem had done the unthinkable. He had decided to end the lives of millions in order to escape justice. There was a 72% chance that Dome 6 would survive the explosion, and two hours before the boom, he had begun the abandonment of the siege. They would make it into the safe zones of Dome 6 fifteen minutes before the end, where already 6 million people would have gathered. Less probably; they had put an estimated 1 million children on shuttles to _Alisa III_. Again, Captison scowled. Six million. Four out of every ten persons had been murdered by Rem's egomania, and more might soon join them.

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

Rem paced nervously in the chamber that had become his headquarters in Control. That Captison had left almost two hours ago was good. That his army now had a chance to rebuild for the next conflict was a heavily fondled joy. He turned to regard the masked associate who had advised him so well. "I must thank you again, Malefic. I would never have thought to reverse the generator's flow and then adjust it at the last minute. We may yet throw off Orakio's bad governance and save our people."

The gray-robed sorcerer laughed. His was not the laughter of normal humans, but the unamused choking of a slave of the Darkness. "Fool! There is no way to stop what you have set in motion! Soon, thousands will be dead, and my master will rejoice!"

"What?!" Rem was shocked. That meant that he was-

"Yesss! You are doomed, fool!" the cloaked creature hissed.

"Then you will die with me!" Rem shrieked. He quickly pulled out his sonic gun, but before he could fire, the Malefic raised his skeletal hand and said, "Bindwa."

Paralyzed, Rem could only watch as the Malefic continued his evil chortling. "I will live. But you _will_ die!"

With this last, the Malefic began to chant, and Rem watched in terror as symbols circled around the evil warlock's head. At last, he said "Grantz." 

The evil Malefic was enveloped in a blue sphere that quickly vanished in a flash of light.

And that was the last thing Rem saw before nuclear fire consumed all.


	5. Deadly Consequences

"Look at all the stars, Mama! And look! There's one of the spaceships!" Canaras squealed in delight. He watched as his mother gave him a smile. "Yes, Canaras. There are so many stars, and on one of them, we'll find a planet just for us. Where we can play in real sunshine, have real wind and weather. It will be a dream come true," Sumire said. 

"This sounds like one of Timothy's stories. Have you been listening to him, Mama?" Canaras asked.

Sumire laughed. Her excitable little son was a sharp one, no doubt about that. She _had_ been listening to some of the stories Timothy told when he took care of the children, and she had to admit that the Guard had a talent with words. She was just about to comment on that to her son, when Timothy appeared.

_Speak of the devil, _she thought. But his facial expression was very strained…

"Ma'am can you go inside please? Lord Orakio has sent word that at the very least, all children have to be kept indoors for at least the next two hours."

"Why? What hap-" 

Sumire looked up as soon as she saw that the night "sky" was brightening far too early for sunrise. And the light was not the mellow yellow of sunlight, but the orange of an explosion.

Canaras had continued to stare up at the sky when his mother had begun talking to Timothy. Thus, he was the only person in the Capitol Tower to see the detonation of the _Odin's Axe_. He fell to his knees, and was quickly supported by Timothy's strong hands. Sumire managed to stumble to her son, and collapsed, shocked. Timothy looked up at the once-friendly sky with tears in his eyes. He had requested a six-month transfer to the _Axe_, and fought against Rem to try to save people. He looked hard against that fire blossom background to see if anything survived. He could just barely make out a single dome that seemed to be more or less in intact. Turning he yelled for two guards to take Sumire and Canaras to their rooms, and to make sure they both woke up with a friendly face to greet them.

At last, Timothy again gazed up at the sky. _What have we done? By creating Mother Brain, we have sentenced these innocent people to a living Hell._

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***__

"What's the final casualty report, Ares?" Orakio asked softly.

"Out of the 12,715,325 people that lived on the _Odin's Axe_ when Rem began his rebellion, 7, 175, 841 survived the war and made it into Dome 6. Exactly 1,366,822 children were successfully evacuated to _Alisa III_."

"And the survivors from the detonation?" Orakio questioned once again, the same soft tone present.

"Out of the 5,809,019 left behind because of time constraints and etc., 2,432,403 were killed or wounded before recovery. We have ascertained that 689,467 children have been orphaned by the death of their parents on the _Axe_. As you requested, we have checked how many people are willing and able to increase their families from anywhere from one to three children, and a surprising number are willing to take them. We-"

"Did you include us as a family willing to take in orphans?" Canaras asked in the same soft tone as his father. Orakio and Ares whirled around, startled, when they realized who had spoken.

"Son, I understand your sympathy but-"

Canaras resumed speaking in the same tone Orakio used when he received an answer he did not want to hear. Orakio shuddered as he realized just how observant his six-year-old son was. "Not the question I asked, Papa. I asked whether you included us as willing foster families."

Ares gave his superior a glare, as if to declare it was all Orakio's fault. When he turned around he said to the boy, "No, Canaras. He did not include your family."

The boy nodded once, unsurprised. He addressed his father, using the same forceful tones that Orakio employed when he wanted something. "Papa, those kids have just had their own Mamas and Papas taken from them. I know I would feel lost, confused, and hurt if you died, and I couldn't help you. How can you deny them the support that you, Timothy, Mieu, and everyone else can give them? They deserve loving families as well. Please, Papa. Give them a chance to grow up happy like me. Not sad."

Orakio averted his eyes from the boy's earnest expression. He knew that he would give in. The boy had a definite talent with people that would make him a great man once he grew up. He finally turned his eyes to Ares, defeated. "Ares, mark us as willing to take on five children, two boys and three girls."

Canaras' serious expression did not change. He did not smile, laugh, or whoop in joy. He simply nodded. "Thank you, Papa." Then he walked out of the office in the same quiet way he entered.

As soon as the door closed behind the boy, Ares resumed glaring at Orakio. Orakio tolerated the glare for the interminably long time of ten seconds before he irritably snapped, "What the hell _are_ you looking at?"

"You! You _knew_ what would happen if you had a son, and you just had to go right ahead!" Ares retorted.

"I did _not_ know. How was I to know that he would pick up on my mannerisms and tactics so quick?! I thought we would have another ten years before he started running the fleet for us, not so soon!"

"It was totally irresponsible breeding that little tyrant and dumping him on our lap! Let's just hope he turns out like you, or we're all doomed. You know what would have happened if you were like Stileco when you took over," Ares accused.

Orakio frowned, the only clue as the tension that was occurring inside him. Ares had hit on Orakio's greatest fear for his son, the one that parents for generations had been troubled by; would his son become an evil so profound that his hands would result in the spilling of innocent blood? Would he desecrate all that was good for his own gain, not caring for those who might be stepped on? Would he, in short, become so dark that he would disown his parents, and become unworthy of the love they had given him?

Ares heaved a deep sigh and then murmured, "I apologize for that, Orakio. It was uncalled for. But the point is, we are all very worried about your son. He has too much talent. And as light-hearted as he seems, he has a very deep dark side. His temper has left more than one child with a bloody nose, and his anger makes even his friends fearful of him. We're afraid that if the wrong thing happens at the wrong time, he'll be pushed over the brink and destroy us all."

Orakio leapt to defend his son. "He's only six! How can a child be a threat?"

"A six-year-old who is already a prodigy at knives. _I_ can barely keep up with him, and even Deikon is hard-pressed to beat him. And who knows what will happen when he enters the full training? He's charming direct, and dynamic. He gets what he wants with either guile or force. He _will _become a leader on this ship, and we'd rather that he not be another Lassic or Stileco."

Orakio tried to change the topic. "That's too far into the future. We don't have to worry about it yet. Besides, he looks up to us. You, Deikon, Galen, Lune, Cilor, Hawat, Timothy, and myself are all his role models.  How can he fall onto this dark path you all fear so much?"

"I hear that the same was asked of Lassic when he assumed the throne," Ares replied coldly before walking out, leaving Orakio to brood on this rampant fear of his son.

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

Canaras gazed at his new siblings. But where most children acquired them one at a time, he had gotten his all at once and under _far_ less happy circumstances. Two big brothers, three little sisters, all in a silence that was unnatural for children. Canaras sighed. Though he understood why they were keeping themselves distant from each other, he knew, in the innocent way of children, that they had to get closer to others to heal the wounds of the loss of a loved one. He exchanged worried looks with his cousins, and resumed examining his foster siblings.

 His roaming eyes finally settled on one of the girls. She was a little shorter than he was, with the strangest blue hair he had ever seen. She was the only one openly crying, but she did not sob to try to bring attention to herself. Quietly, Canaras walked to her and sat down next to her. When she didn't react, he hesitated, and then put an arm around her to try to comfort her. She violently shrugged him off.  Frowning, Canaras said, "I know why you're sad, but that doesn't mean you have to hurt others who are worried about you."

She looked up to glare at him through tear-reddened eyes. Canaras blinked, not so much as in shock, but in surprise. _Her eyes are that same purple-blue color as her hair!_

The girl spoke, her voice trembling with heartbreak. "W-what do you care, p-peasant."

Canaras' expression darkened. "Peasant, huh? Then who are you to look down on me?"

She visibly tried to put herself together, to show contempt for his upbringing. "I'm A-alyssa Ecaz, d-descendant of the Archdragoon, and h-heiress of the D-duchy of Elacca. You c-can call me your grace." 

Canaras' frown did not disappear. If anything, it deepened. This girl's bloodline was much higher up than his own, and she was obviously used to a lot of pampering. He could try to get past her conceit and become her friend, or simply let her suffer. _I didn't ask Papa to offer orphans a home because I was gonna look down on them._ _Besides, she's as scared as the rest of us. She might try to hide it behind all that bluster, but under the surface, she's a scared kid. Well, this ain't gonna be fun._

"Alright, your grace.  Wait…Ecaz? As in Duke Demetrios Ecaz? _You're_ his daughter?!"

"G-granddaughter. We were all v-visiting on the _A-axe_ when…when…" her face collapsed and she wept bitterly. 

Lirita gave her cousin a disapproving glare that made Canaras flinch. He shrugged helplessly, and his face automatically adopted an "It's not my fault!" look. Her delicate face issued a challenging glare Canaras recognized as Aunt Lira's. Canaras scowled. _That brat! She's gonna make me look like an idiot. I just know it!_

Canaras glowered at her as she walked up to the oldest kid present, a tall silver-eyed ten-year-old. She flashed her most winning smile and gushed, "Hi! I'm Lirita, but all my friends call me Liri. What's your name?"

The boy's sullen face changed to an aggravated expression. "None of your business, brat. Go play dolls or something, and just leave me alone."

Lirita's smile did not fade. If anything, it became less friendly. "A brat, huh? Why am I a brat?"

Canaras winced. Lirita was a nice girl, but if you called her a brat…well, you better have good life insurance, as his Uncle Rulakir would say. Oblivious to this, the other boy said, "Because you are a brat! You're annoying me, so go away." He made a shooing gesture.

"Let me tell you a secret, and then I'll go, ok?" Lirita's expression was guileless and innocent. Canaras gulped. _Here it comes…_

"Fine," he huffed. He stooped down to her level. "Whatta ya want?"

"Just this," she murmured, and she poked him in the eye. As he shouted, she threw her ball into his crotch. The boy collapsed into the fetal position. Then, Lirita started jumping up and down on him, singing a silly little tune as she did. All of the children slowly, hesitantly, began to smile, than giggle, and finally laugh out loud.

As the last of their mirth faded, the boy finally picked himself up. He groaned, which started another round of laughter. He managed to glare at Lirita. "What's so funny, you-" He stopped himself just in time.

"You never gave me your name," Lirita's innocent tone belied the mischievous glee in her eyes.

He grunted as he ran a hand through tousled brown hair. He finally muttered, "I'm Chay Radzyn. The _dis_pleasure of meeting you is all mine." 

Lirita's smile again became threatening. "Be nice," she murmured.

Canaras took charge before Lirita could again unleash a sneak attack on Chay. Dragging Alyssa by the hand, he went the middle of the room. "I think we should all introduce ourselves. I am Canaras Sa Riik, and this-" he gestured to his other cousin and then to Alyssa-"is Kirath, my cousin, and Alyssa Ecaz, my…friend. Lirita you have all had the pleasure of meeting." He smiled at Chay. " Or in some cases, the _dis_pleasure. What about the rest of you guys? And girls," he added hastily at the evil looks he was receiving from the girls in the room.

The orphans exchanged wary looks, and recited their names. Stragen Emsat, Sylvie Emsat, and Tira Durza, all relatives whose parents had not survived the disaster_._ Kirath stared at them. "What does 'relatives' mean?" he asked.

Stragen gave him an arrogant smirk. "That's a fancy way of saying family. Sylvie is my sister, and Tira is my cousin."

"Like Liri is my sister and Canaras is my cousin?"

"What do you know? You do have brains!" Stragen sneered.

Canaras' eyes narrowed dangerously. Insulting his family was guaranteed to provoke his temper. He managed to rein it in, but Alyssa still glimpsed the fierce blaze. _He's a kid, but he has the same look in his eyes as Grandpa!_

"I think you owe Kir an apology," Canaras murmured calmly, which caused his cousins to share concerned looks.

"It's when the dragon's roar is softest is when he is most dangerous," Kirath whispered to his sister.

The older boy snorted derisively at Canaras. "Not bloody likely, suboid."

Canaras' golden eyes darkened to the fierce black of his father. Suboids had once been the mindless troopers of Stileco's countless legions. Over the centuries, the word had become an insult that would make the most thick-skinned person foam at the mouth. "Why don't we settle this at the training floor, _ghafla_?" Canaras snarled in kind. 

Stragen's orange eyes narrowed. "Lead the way, suboid."

With a 'come along' motion of his hand, Canaras led the way out of the playroom and into the transtube. Once everyone entered, he programmed the tube to take them to the practice hall on Level 5. In the few seconds that it took to convey them to the practice hall, Stragen began to show definite signs of doubt. When they had exchanged their clothing for training pants and faced each other on the blue mats, Stragen's face was a study in guilt. "Last chance to back out, small fry." 

"No thanks. Let's go."

"Okay. You asked for it." Stragen replied as he threw a punch at Canaras' face…only to have his punch meet empty air.

"What the…?" he sputtered.

"Behind you, _ghafla_."

Stragen whirled to find Canaras right behind him, giving him a smile tinged with scorn. With an inarticulate growl, Stragen lunged at the smaller boy. Once again, his target skillfully evaded while he skidded on the floor. 

"Strike two. One last chance to get me before I'm done warming up," Canaras taunted.

"Stand still, you stupid midget!!" Stragen screamed as he kicked out at Canaras' legs. A nimble leap brought Canaras over Stragen's body and onto the middle of the mat.

Canaras' smile turned feral. "My turn."

Stragen's face became wary as he prepared for the offensive. Canaras feinted with a left hook, then brought his right leg around for a roundhouse kick that knocked Stragen to the floor, gasping for breath. He then began an elbow drop that stopped only centimeters from Stragen's face. "Do you have something you want to say to me and Kir?" he asked mock solicitously.

"S-sor…ry…for…the…insults…" he wheezed weakly.

"Forgiven." Canaras helped him up and brushed him off. "When my temper's provoked, there's not much I can do but go with it."

Stragen managed to say, "How the heck did you do that? You're smaller than I am! You ain't supposed be able to do that!"

Canaras and his cousins chuckled, while the other children looked confused. "I shouldn't, but I did.  Don't worry so much about it. I've been trained to fight since I was a baby. It's no big deal."

"Is to me. Think they'd let me take the same lessons as you?"

"Yes, we would."

Stragen's question was answered by none other than Orakio himself. Canaras managed to look innocently curious. "Hi, dad. What's up?"

"Don't 'what's up' me, Canaras. I saw that fight. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Canaras glared at his father, well aware that he might finally be forced to apologize. _I've never said sorry in my life, and I don't intend to start! 'Specially since I didn't do nothing wrong!_

"Forgive me, Commander. I started the fight. I felt angry and tried to take it out on everybody else. I'm really sorry," Stragen apologized contritely.

_So he gets away with it again._ Orakio suddenly came to the unnerving realization that everyone feared his son not because of his potential, but because he never apologized. As far as his son was concerned, his actions were correct, and no apology was necessary. _And more often than not, he's in the right_. 

"I see. In any case, I expected these sorts of incidents. Not quite so soon, but that was my mistake. The training you'll all undergo will help you all achieve what Canaras has. It will also help you get closer to each other. Timothy!"

Canaras focused on Timothy, who had been waiting outside. Timothy was Canaras' guardian, but Canaras thought of him more as an uncle than anything else. Right now, Timothy was answering his father.

"Timothy, I take it that you can handle a few more kids?"

 "Yes, Lord Orakio. Do you want me to take care of their mental conditioning as well?"

_Mental conditioning. Yes, that's an accurate description of what's being done to their minds. Making leaders and capable warriors out of them. I wonder if the other children will do as well as Canaras?_

"Yes, Timothy. Start right away."

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

"How goes it, Lune? Is it all according to schedule?"

"Yes, Laya. The mutagen has been introduced into the water supplies of Frigidia and Dahlia. Our tests indicate that it is incorporating itself into the genome. Within two years, all of our populations should have a modicum of our powers," Lune finished his report, and glanced at Laya.

_Her health is declining_, he thought. It had become obvious during the report that she could barely focus and was physically exhausted. The sapphire eyes were bright with fever, the alabaster skin paler than it should be, the blonde hair mussed. Lune did not bother to hide his concern. "Laya, are you feeling all right?"

Laya managed a smile, which she thought showed strength, but Lune saw to be strained. She _had_ been feeling lousy in the last few weeks, and had not gone to the doctor yet_. It's just the blue fever,_ she thought. _No big deal._

She used her desk as leverage to get up. Lune's worry doubled at the strained expression on her face, and the trembling of her legs. "Maybe I should call the medic, Laya."

"Don't be silly. I'm fine…" she managed, then put the lie to that statement as she slumped to the floor in a faint.

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

Cilor paced the examining room, worried. He had been visiting the garrison at Drasgow II when he had received news of Laya's faint, and he had rushed back, duty being damned. _Nothing can happen to her. Please no! Please, whatever gods there may be! Don't let anything happen to her!_

Lune sat and watched his friend pace. While he shared in Cil's agitation, he was just as fascinated in the changes inherent in him. _Before he married Laya, he was much colder, looking out for no one but himself. Now, he genuinely worries about Laya. I wonder if I'll change as dramatically as he did when I get married?_

Lune veered off from that train of thought. Kara was hinting at it, and he had no intention of marrying her without thinking it through and talking to her about it. He did not plan on making a mistake with the woman he married. Finally, the doctor appeared and headed towards them.

"What is wrong with my wife? It's just the blue fever, right?" Cilor demanded, worry translating itself in his voice as aggression.

Lune nodded, hoping his friend was right. Blue fever was a virus common in cold regions of Palm and on Dezo. It usually produced a fever, congestion, and decreased appetite. Harmless, rapidly mutating, and highly contagious, it did not usually produce such an effect on people who caught it.

"It's a little more than the blue fever, Commandant," the doctor said. "You'll have to be careful to avoid placing too much stress on her due to her condition."

Cilor paled, and demanded, "Then what is it? What is her condition?"

The doctor smiled at him. "Congratulations, Commandant. Your wife is pregnant."

Lune pounded Cilor on the back, who could only stand in shock. When he finally realized his impending fatherhood, he let out a victory whoop that was heard all over Mystoke. "Can I go see her?"

The doctor gestured easily. "Be my guest, Commandant."

Eagerly, Cilor walked into Laya's room. He opened the door, and entered the medical suite. Looking around, he saw the desk, the bed, the examining equipment, and his Laya, dressed in medical scrubs and sleeping. He smiled at his sleeping wife, his thoughts roaming around his future child…and the events that produced that child. Quite suddenly, a pillow removed the lascivious grin on his face. "Hey! What—"

"This is all your fault!"

Laya had been awakened by Cilor's presence and as soon as she caught sight of his smile, did not hesitate to take out her annoyance on him. "Not only do I feel lousy, but the doctors say that I'm only in the first month!"

"And by the time you reach the ninth month, I'll need good insurance." Cilor smiled at his furious wife. "My dear, don't you think you should be happy? We're going to have a child!"

"Of course I'm happy, you half-wit! I'm just cranky and I feel like taking it out on the reason for this!"

"Cilor? Need I repeat Inej's words?"

Cilor scowled at Lune, who had entered sometime during Laya's tirade. "Who asked you, wise guy? I'm going to make sure that you find a wife as docile and sweet-natured as mine."

Lune smirked at him, and returned his attention to Laya. "Do you feel better?"

"I feel just great. That is, when I'm not throwing up, or feeling cranky or—"

"I'm sorry I asked," Lune muttered.

"What was that!?"

Cilor intervened before Laya's rant could resume. "Don't you think we should come up with a name for our child, love? After all, we want positive energy to enter the child from the beginning. And the child will need all the help it can get, since it's not getting any from the mother."

Pouting, Laya glared at her husband. "Alright, I'm being unusually shallow, and I apologize for it. Happy?"

"Yes. Since you're not usually so surly, I hope you won't keep that attitude."

Laya ignored the friendly jibe. "What should we call her?"

"Her? But the doctor couldn't have the child's gender yet. We just learned—"

"Call it woman's intuition, Cil. What should we name our daughter?

"Woman's intuition, eh? Since when has _that_ ever been right?"

 "Cilor Ra Mira!"

"Alright, relax!" Cilor chuckled. "How about Samna?"

"Hmm…how about Polsala instead?"

" 'Star dream'? Well, why not? It seems oddly appropriate, seeing as we're in the void between stars, trying to find a new one to be our home."

"Ever the poet, aren't you, Cil?" Lune interjected.

"It's one of the many things my wife adores about me," Cilor replied easily.

"I do?" Laya asked.         

"You do. And once the doctor releases you from here, I'll show you why."

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

_Dad isn't making this easy at_ all, Canaras thought uneasily. It had been six months since the destruction of the _Odin's Axe_, and he and his foster siblings had been in training ever since. While many people protested the ethics of training children in the arts of war and leadership, Orakio scorned them for limiting themselves so blatantly.

"Yes, they're children. So what? Children _learn_. Adults, and even adolescents, _know_ so much that they _can't_ learn. And they're not even losing their childhood. They're more precocious and mature than other children, and this training helps them to understand their strengths and weaknesses. These children are probably more mature than all of _you_."

This comment had not gone over well, and when further pressed, Orakio had silenced them all with a single barked command. Canaras had listened to all the arguments about why children should not be in training, and found them all weak and unconvincing. They all remained irrepressibly individual, dynamic, and thoughtful. What probably scared a lot of people, Canaras decided, was the maturity in all of them.  They weren't robots, and they always questioned, always demanded explanations. And they weren't adult minds in child bodies, either. They all enjoyed having fun, and most of their favorite activities were for children.

Refocusing on the exercise, he listened for the Chay's and Stragen's footsteps. He was blindfolded, while his companions were not. Orakio had decided to teach them how to rely on their other senses: they all were sharply observant, but Orakio had declared that they needed to use more than just their eyes in combat. He had demonstrated in mock-duel with Deikon. 

Canaras grinned as he remembered watching his blindfolded father fight the equally handicapped Deikon to a standstill. Breathing deeply, he tried to employ the seven attitudes against attack form eight sides. Listening, feeling, and smelling, he tried to determine where the first attack would come from.

He felt more than heard Stragen kick out behind him. Moving quickly, Canaras ducked and kicked out at the unbalanced Stragen, dropping him. Anyone who fell to the mat was out, and this gave Canaras a measure of confidence. _One down, one to go_.

He straightened, and suddenly felt the odd sense of vertigo that meant he had been grabbed and was about to be thrown to the mat. Refusing to go down without taking Chay with him, Canaras lashed out at Chay's knees, temporarily deadening the nerves and toppling the both of them.

Canaras removed the blindfold and saw his father clapping. "Very good, Canaras. I hope that teaches you all something."

"Yeah, it does. Don't be full of yourself," Chay said, scowling.

Orakio shook his head. "Not that. You can be as confident as you wish in combat. That little scuffle of yours should have taught you two things." He ticked the points off on his hand to emphasize. "One, expect only what happens in a fight. That way, you'll never be surprised. Two, do not count a man dead until you've seen his body. Even then, you _can_ make a mistake."

Orakio glared at the three boys, who stood quietly. "Remember, it is not play we do here. Your life may depend on the training you receive here today. Now, do that exercise again. And you will _all_ wear blindfolds this time."

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

Sumire watched her husband instruct the boys, marking the speed to which they adopted to the training regimen. While Stragen and Chay were eager and learning quickly, Canaras was surpassing anything they were doing with a minimum of effort. Orakio had quietly expressed his fears about their son to her, and she found herself curious at her own lack of fear. _That dream must have done it…_

Sumire's mind wandered back to the dream she had right before her son had been born--_two knights battled hordes of monsters, back to back. One, she recognized, was her beloved Orakio, older and grim. He wielded a black sword, and slaughtered amongst the enemy, all the life in his eyes dimmed by blood lust and grief. The other she thought was her love in his youth, but she saw the young man's eyes: golden brown like her own. There was a fierce scar traversing his face, going from right to left. He burned with an aura of righteous anger. He massacred all who crossed his path. She suddenly saw the one she knew was responsible for this horror, and she saw her son battling his way to duel him. She saw her son kill the man, who carried a similar scar, and collapse when the man stabbed him. Orakio lifted him away, and they ran. Grief and terror contorted Orakio's face, and she felt her own heart fill with worry. What was happening? Another presence was at the limit of her perception, and she glimpsed a pretty girl who seemed confident and with her hands touching her son, who seemed to stir to life—_and then the world had focused sharply as she felt the first pains of labor.

She had shared the dream with Orakio, who had related his own experiences with dreams. She could recall his words even now. _Dreams, eh? I've had a dream haunt me since I was a little boy. I saw myself carrying an ebon sword, and dueling with an abomination that wore a mockery of a human face. I am always alone, dueling that creature. The nightmare always ended with my death at the hands of that beast. The black sword you describe bothers me. We might have received a look at the possible futures, but remember what the Old Master said: nothing is written in stone. And even if it was, the stone can be broken. Let us hope that neither of these are an immutable future, that at some point we might avoid such a fate._

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

Shadows. Most people are uncomfortable in the dark. An almost childlike fear of the night convinces people not to stray outside when the sun sets. Even inside, they try to hold back the darkness' inevitable reign, turning lights on as long as they possibly could, in an attempt to evade the touch of what they perceive as evil. Not so for Seth. He preferred the darkness, lurked in them. The audience chamber where he received the citizens of Catha Island was all the more intimidating since it did not let in much light. He often went there, when he had to think, or govern…or scheme. He sat himself down in his chair, watching the empty room.

 "How go my plans?" Seth asked softly, seemingly speaking to the shadows of his audience chamber. To any normal person, the response would have seemed to be the mere whispering of the artificial wind.

"All goes as you have commanded,               Master. Soon, the first challenge shall begin. Then, we shall complete the annihilation of these scum, O Great and High One."

Seth's charcoal eyes distorted, forming into fierce red embers. **"Do not waste my time with obsequious chatter! Accomplish what I demand, or face a fate worse than that I shall give these mortals! How fares the _Ly'sefalz_?"**

The hissing sound had a fearful undertone to it now. "The mother still lives. Her body has begun to absorb the energy of the…offspring. Soon, she will no longer be fully human. She will become a succubus. As for the offspring, it thrives off the energy of those you have seized. Soon, it will become the physical embodiment of our god. It will be able to survive in this world with it's own power, and will absorb yours in case you fall. From what I've seen, it is truly immortal!"

Seth's inhuman eyes closed. His minion took this opportunity to reveal itself from the shadows. Gray-robed, his head concealed by a full breather mask and a hood, Malefic awaited his master's command. **"Are you ready to introduce the drugs necessary to miscarriage Laya's pregnancy into her body as soon as my minions accomplish their goal?"**

"Yes, my Master," Malefic whispered.

**"Then do what is required."**

His underling fading from sight, Seth contemplated the delicious chaos he would soon create. It was only a matter of time before he seized this ship and returned to his god, back in Algo. The Profound Darkness would be pleased when he returned to free her. And no doubt she would be ecstatic when he presented her with the perfect body, one made of both power and flesh. Immortal and more powerful than ever before, she would be most grateful. One of his goals had been accomplished. He had created a _Ly'sefalz._ His ancient enemies the Espers would not appreciate the ironic name for his offspring, considering the language was theirs, and the implications even more serious. Seth grinned as he thought, Ly'sefalz. _Child of Dark Force._

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

Captain Jas "Shred" Tremor watched his troops begin the transfer of nuclear waste out of the Frigidian power reactor.  The power plants that powered the individual domes of the Alisa III were the most efficient models available, but nonetheless produced a massive amount of waste.  The heating and cooling processes required large amounts of materials to maintain, and the waste products always had to be removed to Techna to be used as fuel, or to be treated and reused in the power plants. While the new Bio-Plant creatures called Oozes could eat the wastes and then produce the required materials to maintain the fusion process, not enough of them had been born to totally eliminate the need for vitrification and the transportation of the waste-composed glass rods to Techna.  

Tremor shook his head as his technicians carefully loaded the rods into a convoy of specially shielded Vans. Ordinarily, in domes like Terminus, the presence of his soldiers would not have been required. But Frigidia, Aquatica, and Dome 4 were prowled by bands of rebellious women who thought nothing of striking at the convoys and using the wastes as threats against humble villagers. While only one such incident had ever occurred, in Frigidia, which had thankfully been resolved quickly. Orakio had ordered military escorts from that point on. He had barely averted a full-blown rebellion by the governors, who had been led by an enraged Laya De Cille. Even now, with Governor De Cille in the six month of her pregnancy, the relations between the erstwhile allies were tense.

Motherhood makes women go crazy… 

"Captain! The wastes have been removed! We're ready to move out!"

Nodding, Tremor said, "Alright, you know the drill. We've been on this duty for over a year, and personally, I want to get to Techna in time for the New Year Holiday! Who's with me?"

Tremor smiled at the cheers he received from his Security Corps brigade. With the Punishers hunting for dissidents and the Republican Guard tied down in garrison duty, the Security Corps was the only military organization with enough manpower to spare to guard the convoys. _I wonder why she doesn't use her militia? They have the manpower after all…_

In a move designed to emphasize her independence from Orakio, Laya had formed a local militia to patrol the outskirts and defend the cities. While Orakio maintained garrisons at Drasgow II and at Firon, he had yielded to her demands that she defend her own people. Oddly enough, she still insisted that Orakio's forces remove the wastes. Resentful, Orakio had personally ordered Tremor to handle the situation in Frigidia.

Tremor smiled as he considered the terms of his acquaintance with Orakio Sa Riik. He'd originally been a top enforcer for one of Old Camineet's gangs, the Red Stingers. His smashed nose and scarred face were souvenirs of that particular part of his life, and while they detracted from his looks, did not impair his abilities. He'd first met Orakio in a firefight, back when Orakio had been a lieutenant in the Republican Guard, not Supreme Commander of the Palman Relocation Fleet, or even Chief of Planetary Security. His enforcers had successfully stolen a shipment of PalmCorp technology, when a squad led by Orakio had discovered them. In the firefight that followed, neither side gained an advantage. Then, in a reckless move, Orakio had leapt from cover, and activated a plasma sword. Confident, Tremor had ordered his men to gun him down. Much to their surprise, Orakio deflected the rounds back at them. Annoyed, Tremor had then ordered three of his thugs to kill him at close range. Orakio, however, literally disarmed the three, and Tremor had ordered his gangers to flee. They never stood a chance, as the squad they had thought pinned down had taken advantage of Orakio's feint to sneak up behind him and stun his thugs.

Even though he had not been particularly impressed with the squad that had captured them, Tremor had been absolutely terrified of Orakio. The amazing sword skills he'd displayed made Tremor want to run away as fast as he could. And Orakio's interrogation had been fierce, not the usual slap on the wrist the old Office of Planetary Security used to have. Later on, while in a holding cell, he'd been convinced by Orakio to drop his law-breaking ways. This conversion proved convenient, as Tremor soon helped Orakio take down a group of corrupt corporate officials and the Red Stingers in a move that resulted in the abolition of the corrupt Office of Planetary Security, and the creation of the Department of Palman Planetary Security, headed by none other than Orakio himself.

Grateful, Orakio had granted Tremor's request to be allowed a role in the new organization. Orakio had handed him a brigade made up of idealist rookies and indifferent cops, and told him to straighten them out. For the last decade, that brigade had followed Tremor—who followed Orakio—through the Gothic Mine incident, the Planetary Evacuation, the Battle on the Tundra, and numerous other places.

Boarding the Aerotank they'd appropriated from the local militia, Tremor carefully observed the tundra to make sure that neither Amazons nor Samurai approach them. He wanted no trouble while they transported the wastes to Firon, and he wanted trouble to keep it's distance. Sensing that this trip would not be as easy as all the rest, he activated the com and told his troops, "Alright, people! No relaxing today. I have a bad feeling about this mess, and I'm not letting whatever's causing it to screw us over. Keep your eyes open, and stay alert! Tremor out." 

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

Malefic carefully looked over the position he had chosen to ambush the convoy. With mountains on either side of a pass known to the mortals as Blind Man's Gap, the convoy could neither outflank him, nor escape him. He glared at the minions his master had given him to accomplish his goal. Few of them had the intelligence to grasp, let alone relish, the plot that was being unfurled, piece-by-piece. Resurrected Skeletons, summoned demons such as the Wrestlers, and other monstrosities from the Edge were positioned around the pass, ready to attack at his signal. What did it matter if they were too simple-minded to comprehend the intricacies of his scheme? Carefully using his magic to watch over the incoming convoy, Malefic could not help but laugh. Hissing chuckles escaped him, as he watched the foolish Palmans walk into his trap.

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

"Sir! We're under attack!" 

A jolt of adrenaline spread through Tremor's body as he heard his panicked scout's scream through his comlink. "Damn! Listen up! Transport Vans fan out and assume support positions. Everyone out and prepare for battle! Melee troopers, prepare to charge! Gunners and riflemen, prepare to open fire! Move people! Com crew! Radio for assistance from Skyhaven, Firon, and Drasgow II!"

Suiting actions to words, Tremor picked up his plasma rifle and exited the Aerotank. He quickly scanned his location, and spotted a likely rock outcropping that would give him sufficient cover to fight from. In under a minute, his brigade was positioned to intercept the aggressors that had attacked his scout. Patiently, he waited for his foe to appear. And when his enemy finally showed up, he was left speechless.

Skeletons were marching across the field and toward his men. Other soldiers were similarly stunned at witnessing something their rational minds declared impossible. But while his mind was astounded, his instincts had no problem screaming their warning to Tremor.

Enemy! Enemy! Enemy! Destroy! Destroy! Destroy!! 

Deciding to heed the counsel of his less enlightened side, Tremor barked out his orders to his men. "What in the blue hell are you all waiting for?! _Open fire!!_"

Blue and green laser fire soon swathed the encroaching enemy in flames, as Vans, Poleziax, Warren-286 and riflemen used their sophisticated weaponry on the primitive Undead. Well aware that his melee troopers would be vulnerable in such a battle, Tremor directed them to assume defensive positions around the preoccupied gunners. While their Undead foes were falling by the score, Tremor knew full well that before too long, their high-tech beam weaponry would have to be set aside to be recharged. And then the close-range battle would begin. Deciding to change the rules of the game, he ordered, "Set aside the beam weapons for now! Vans! Continue support fire! Make sure to avoid hitting our own troops! Melee troopers! Commence attack!"

"We copy! Commencing attack…wait…what the hell are those?!"

Turning his attention to the region where the Skeletons had approached from, Tremor received his second nasty surprise of the day, only an hour after he had received his first. Monstrosities of every type were pouring through the gap, howling and screaming as they neared his forces. Cheerless creatures with shallow, skull-like heads misplaced on massive, bulky bodies; faceless beasts with a massive talon attached to one arm, and a snout-like appendage where the other arm should be; four-legged demons covered in armor; masked, robed sorcerers that emanated evil; and, worst of all, Palmans, armed either with glowing black sabers or odd growths on their hands, directing the incoming fiends.

Scowling, Tremor shouted, "Com crew! Where are out reinforcements?!"

"No good, sir! Skyhaven will airdrop two hundred or so Dogbots and Robomen in a few minutes, but full-blown reinforcements won't arrive for another hour! And the rear guard reports that enemies are attacking us from behind!"

"Damn! All units! Get ready to use the Last Stand!"

Protests echoed through the link. The Last Stand was a desperation tactic invented during the Dragoon Wars, where it had, unfortunately, received constant use. The tactic involved establishing an outnumbered, outflanked army in a narrow niche or mountain pass, and then splitting the melee forces and riflemen in two, one to meet each side of the attack. While the numerically superior enemy attacked, the defenders would inflict heavy casualties. If the unit was sufficiently well-trained, the enemy would either flee or be defeated. However, usually, the defenders received reinforcements, and escaped to fight another day, despite heavy losses.

Grimly, Tremor told his men, "Do it! We don't have a choice! We're outnumbered, and outflanked! This is the only way for at least some of us to escape with our lives! Move! Reinforcements won't arrive for another hour, and I intend to see that hour go by! Who's with me?!"

Sheer bravado crowded the comlink, as his troopers took heart from his impromptu speech. Hoping that he would not be forced to eat those brave words, Tremor withdrew to the gap.

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

The three special waste-transporting Vans that had been the heart of the military escort had long since fled from the devastating conflict raging near Blind Man's Gap. Relieved to have escaped with their lives, the technicians did their best to return to the reactor base. Which was what Malefic had expected.

"What the hell…?" one of the pilots muttered. He thought he had seen a gray cloak in his path, but he shrugged at what was probably an illusion.

"What's up?" his friend asked.

"Nothing, I think. See, I thought I saw—"

Whatever he thought he saw was never revealed when the Van crashed into some unseen force, crushing the pilot into a bloody pulp, and shattering his friend's legs. Moaning in pain, the survivors all tried to make sense of what had occurred. And then they heard a sound that froze the blood in their veins…when it was not bleeding out of them.

Malefic continued his labored laughter. He had teleported a small group of his minions into the path of the fleeing Vans, and had set up a powerful magic barrier to stop their escape. Witnessing the survivors beginning to stagger out, he turned to his minions. "Rippers, Wrestlers, and other fiends serving the Profound Darkness! Feast on these miserable fools! But do no harm to the anything inside those metal boxes!"

Howling their agreement, all of the less evolved demons and quite a few of the more intelligent ones attacked the defenseless technicians. Soon, nothing could be heard but the high-pitched screams of pain of Palmans being eaten alive, and the unnatural sounds escaping the creatures of Darkness, covered in blood.

Malefic enjoyed the show, and when the defenseless mortals were no more, he turned to a pair of Sakoff. "Begin moving the boxes closer to me. Our Lord has need of this elsewhere. Good thing the sea is frozen, too. We can use that as a convenient excuse. Now, hurry! Hurry!"

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

"Impossible! What is being done to stop this rogue force and to locate those missing Vans?" Laya demanded. It was late morning, and she had been at work, dealing with the politics of running her dome and the continued process of integrating the refugees from the _Odin's Axe_. While the disaster had occurred almost a year ago, the more temperate domes were crowded enough, and the vast majority of the refugees had been sent to relatively empty Frigidia. Most of these refugees were resentful of Orakio, and rumors had hinted that this move had been a deliberate attempt by Orakio to herd his enemies in a single place where he could annihilate them. While Laya doubted the veracity of the rumor, most of the refugees and many of her aides believed it, and she had been forced to take security measures to maintain her own position, and defend the people. The militia she had created, while nowhere near the standards of the Republican Guard, let alone Orakio's Punishers, was sufficient for the purpose of defending against the Amazons and Samurai that still plagued the tundra, despite the Amazon's crushing defeat three years ago, and the forced relocation of the Samurai eighteen months after that. Sipping her tea, she listened to her husband recite what was known about the current situation.

"I've already placed my militia brigades on alert, but it's taking time to mobilize them. Orakio's garrisons at Firon and Drasgow II are severely weakened, since they've sent most of their reserves to aid the embattled brigade at Blind Man's Gap. From what I can tell, they barely have enough to defend themselves. In any case, we've already instituted a curfew, and militia patrols are hunting for the thieves even now."

"Good." Laya turned from Cilor and stared out her office window, still drinking her tea. "I want a full rep—" She stopped, her attention attracted to something outside. "Oh, no! By the Reverent One, no!!"

Startled, Cilor turned his gaze out the window, and gaped in horror. He had sent a militia unit to guard a small town where he had situated an outpost, which was five kilometers from Mystoke. Where that town would be, there was an ominous mushroom cloud gathering. And he knew what he witnessed. Something he had only read about before. Something that should not have occurred. What he saw were the first instants of an atomic detonation. 

He might have been entranced at the sight longer if he had not seen his wife crumple to the floor in a faint. "Laya!" Rushing to her, he took her into his arms when he noticed something very wrong…

"No! She's in labor! Her water broke! It's too soon!" Lunging for the speaker system, he shouted, "Get a medical team into the Governor's office! She's in labor! Mobilize the militia units! We have to prevent those Vans from being detonated again!"

Pulling away from military considerations, Cilor clutched his wife to his chest and softly prayed that he not lose her.

***                                            ***                                            ***                                           ***

_Seven days. It's been seven days. My baby girl has been born too soon, and they're not sure she will survive. They tell me that if she lives through the next week, she won't die. And now, I know what I must do._

Laya stared out at the expectant faces gathered outside the Castle of Silence, in spite of the cold. Many carried counseling posters, while others watched on with neutral expressions. Cilor had gathered his militia around the people to defend against any intruders. Lune had arrived from Dahlia, to show his support for her. The Mayors of Kirlante, Shusoran, and Endora has arrived as well, each one promising to support whatever measures she deemed necessary. Shaking off her disquiet, Laya gripped her husband's arm for support.

Cilor spoke to Laya in their ancient language, choosing to keep this as private as he could. "Are you sure about this Laya? After this, there is no going back."

"I can do nothing more," she responded sadly.

With a sharp gesture, Cilor summoned the other Politicians to Laya's side. Making sure that he presented himself as Commandant of the Frigidian Militia and husband to the Governor of Frigidia, he hoped that no one would interpret Laya's grip on his arm as weakness. Leading her out to the podium placed on the hastily erected stage, he withdrew, leaving Laya alone.

Taking a deep breath, and discreetly using a Res Technique to boost her energy, Laya began to speak in a firm voice. "This New Year Holiday, normally a time of great joy and revelry, has been a time of great sorrow and pain. Seven days ago, rogues under the direction of an unknown person or persons attacked a convoy under the protection of Orakio Sa Riik's soldiers. These men, while bravely fighting off their attackers, failed to protect the people. The enemy seized the convoy, which had been carrying deadly nuclear wastes, and used it against a helpless town. Over 2,000 innocent people, and the whole of a militia brigade, are now dead. While most of Orakio's soldiers succeeded in surviving against a superior enemy, they failed in their primary mission, which is to protect the people. This disaster has given me, and the Politicians who stand with me, no choice but to declare that we have no confidence in Commander Orakio Sa Riik's governance. We choose not to impeach him, for he has committed no moral wrong, nor is he inept. We declare that the Dome of Frigidia, the Moon of Dahlia, and the city-states of Kirlante, Shusoran, and Endora will now secede from the rule of the Capital City in Dome 2. We shall govern and defend ourselves from this moment on. Commander Sa Riik, this is an ultimatum. We leave your governance and assume independence from your rule. You are to remove all military garrisons from our lands in seven days, or you will face the consequences."


End file.
